


Good Citizen

by ffeater



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crimes & Criminals, F/F, Lawyers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-28 23:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffeater/pseuds/ffeater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan leads a life of crime as a con-woman and thief which keeps her crossing paths with criminal lawyer Regina Mills. When Emma is accused of a murder she claims she didn't commit Regina represents her amid the turmoil of their personal relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            Regina opened her eyes and panicked.

Immediate wakefulness propelled her out of her bed and into generous swearing. Her bedroom was in abysmal condition, the floor was littered with articles of clothing and more than one thing had been knocked off of her dresser. All of her normal before bed habits had been abandoned, the bedroom door was not closed and there was no cup of water on her bedside table. Beneath her down duvet Emma groaned and pulled one of the pillows over her head mumbling something about it being early. Regina was going to be late for work.

            “Did you turn off my alarm?”

            Talking was secondary to grabbing clothes out of her closet and dresser but Emma’s lack of a response made her angry and she paused long enough to seize the bottom of the duvet and tug it off her bed like a magician performing a trick. Emma didn’t seem too concerned; she just gathered the sheet up over her shoulder.

Regina took that away in another forceful jerk. Now a pile of bedding covered her pile of clothes.

            In defeat Emma, her head still covered by a pillow- wearing nothing but her underwear and a tank top, threw her arms out to either side of her.

            “Okay, I’m awake now.”

“Did you turn off my alarm?”

            “I don’t know, probably?”

At least she sounded apologetic or she thought she did through the pillow. Disappointed and groggy Emma pulled the pillow off of her face and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before looking at Regina and suppressing a snort of laughter.

            “Why go into work like that when I could just make you a sign to carry that says ‘I had really great sex last night.’”

            Regina checked the mirror and realized the state of last night’s make-up and how disheveled her hair was.

            “Five minute shower and when I get back you will be dressed and leaving.”

 

It almost looked like Emma was pouting but Regina would show no mercy to anyone who made her late. Normally when Emma was in town she didn’t sleep over, for reasons now apparent, but forcing her to book a hotel for one night seemed unnecessary when she’d only be sleeping in it from three in the morning onward. Regina could be reasonable with her dalliances; especially when they provided such excellent company. They’d been sleeping together for six months, which had amounted to maybe half-a-dozen sexual encounters and three criminal cases, in all cases Emma had gotten off. It had been nearly a year since their meeting had been facilitated by Emma’s requirement of a criminal lawyer, of which Regina was an excellent choice. The sleeping with one another had come later and almost automatically, as if while planning testimony and making eye contact over the witness stand that had always been the planned reward for a positive verdict. Then again that was generally how it worked with Regina, having time or patience for anything more was a luxury. Still, when she’d gotten the unexpected call yesterday from Emma saying she’d be in town and wanted to get together she had started to smile, an expression she’d made sure to kill and remove by the time she’d gotten out of her car.

Regina might have wanted to say she’d never showered faster but going to law school had made her an expert at four-minute self-care. Emma was still in her bedroom buttoning up one of Regina’s shirts much to Regina’s obvious dismay.

“What? You ripped mine, and I think it looks good.”

            Emma checked herself out in one of the mirrors, she wasn’t normally one to wear button up shirts, at least not that were actually buttoned. It did look good and something about the intimacy of sharing clothes tripped a warm fuzzy in Regina’s chest.

            “Take it off.”

Emma smirked in innuendo, “Really? I thought you were gonna be late for work.”

            Tempting but she didn’t have time.

“Fine, keep it.”

            Continuing the argument further, she knew, would end up with both of them naked again, at least this way the shirt was all she was getting. Plus, it never hurt to have an excuse to contact her.

  

* * *

 

“I brought you breakfast from that bakery.”

            Ruby dangled a brown paper bag over the desk between them and nearly regretted her kindness when Regina looked up from her work with a countenance on the angry side of expressionless.

            “I figured since you were late you didn’t have time to…”

Attempts to ingratiate herself with Ms. Mills had mostly been bust since she’d gotten her secretary job and it had now become something of a point of pride, she didn’t know what the woman found so objectionable about her.

            Today, it seemed would not be the day, but she placed the bag down on her desk regardless and made to leave. Two steps from the door she heard Regina’s grudging, “Thank you,” and tallied it as a private victory.

           

            Regina didn’t like her because she tried so hard; it was a personality trait that had often frustrated her when encountered. Girls who ran around trying to validate their worth to themselves through the approval of others, it was something she now abhorred in retrospect of her younger self.

Still she had guessed right, she was hungry. Opening the bag revealed that Ruby had gotten her a marble bagel with cream cheese and an apple cinnamon muffin from the bakery she frequented. Okay, maybe she wasn’t giving the girl enough credit but getting attached to good-looking secretaries had never been a good idea.

Regina had been working at Gold’s law firm for what was now the better part of her career. As a firm specializing in criminal law it had something of a reputation (in no small part thanks to her). Gold had founded after a career in business law that had ingratiated him with all manner of rich crooks and Regina spent most of her time defending the asshole sons of wealthy politicians. Dealing with entitled brats generally grated her nerves and the work wasn’t as glamorous as what she’d once done but she was damn good at it and her numbers proved that.

A glass wall fronted her office and Gold knocked on one of the window panels midway through her apple cinnamon muffin. Through the glass she could see he was trailing someone unfamiliar, a younger girl with a ream of folders held against her chest and heels Regina was surprised she could walk in. She wiped some crumbs from the corner of her mouth and gestured for them to come in.

“Good morning Regina, nice of you to join us.”

 

Gold’s accent clipped the warning cheerfully, it was a simple reminder that regardless of how well she’d snuck in he would always take note of her shortcomings and the implications behind them.

 

“I wanted to introduce you to Belle French, she’ll be interning with us.”

The girl smiled shyly and removed a hand from her stack of paperwork to raise it in a kind of polite wave.

“Nice to meet you.”

 

Regina could smell ulterior motives on this one from across the office.

“You too, I’m sure you’ll like it here.”

 

“Ms. Mills here is one of our partners, she has an impressive track record and I’m sure she’ll be willing to answer any questions you might have.”

 

            She was not willing to answer anything, she’d seen enough bright-eyed overly enthusiastic young lawyers to last her a lifetime. Everyone wanted to change the world and everyone was disappointed. However, Gold’s main function as her employer was to volunteer her on matters with which she was not entirely complicit and so she put on a poison smile and said, “Of course.”

 

            “I appreciate that.”

She didn’t look Gold in the eye; she hated that smug expression of control.

            “Belle dear, if you could go get those papers to Ruby? I’ll be after you in a second to show you your desk.”

            Belle nodded and then looked between the two of them as if she was privy to some low static level of the tension, then left as she had been instructed. Before she could get passed the threshold Gold stopped her.

            “Oh, almost forgot.”

 

He pulled down the stack of paper and selected the top folder then smiled for her to be on her way, he closed the door behind her. Regina had gone back to looking at her papers, “Really?”

            “I’m afraid I didn’t catch that.”

Lifting her head from her work Regina raised an eyebrow, “I said it seems like we get an inordinate amount of pretty, enthusiastic, female interns.”

 

            Gold shrugged, “And here I thought you would be pleased with the new face of law, or is this just you being bitter?”

            “Don’t flatter yourself, or her for that matter.”

“Right, well, maybe doing a bit of mentoring would be good. She’s a nice girl, and smart, reminds me a bit of you.”

 

            Regina rolled her eyes at her desk.

“Why are you here? I’m looking over the testimony for the Darling case and I assure you you’ll be the first to know if I come across anything titillating.”

 

            “Between you and me I think you’re getting plenty of titillation, by your tardiness I’d wager your little girlfriend’s back in town.”

            Any façade of playful banter dropped from Regina’s expression, her personal life was strictly off limits. Her attention, which she had been attempting to focus on her work despite the interruption now shifted completely to Gold but before she could tell him off, he offered the manila folder he’d taken from Belle.

 

            “No need to say a word dearie, I already know the answer.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Regina didn’t frequent the police station as she was normally hired before the police even knew what was going on. As soon as her clients’ rich fathers learned of even potential wrongdoings they dialed Gold and by the time the police had brought them in a plan of action had already been established.

            Emma, however, was a different story.

The initial occurrence of her defense had been pro bono as per a favor owed by Gold, Regina hadn’t asked about it knowing that if Gold had owed somebody a favor than it was more than she wanted to be involved in. Normally Emma’s charges were harmless, white-collar theft and forgeries leading to financial gain. Evidence was sparse, Emma was as decent a criminal as Regina was a lawyer and together they were nearly impossible to convict and so it had been for the past year but this time was different.

 

They had Emma in one of the interrogation rooms at the precinct and she could tell by the small crowd of officers gathered outside that she was attracting attention.

 

“She lawyered up pretty much as soon as she sat down.”

That was because she knew better.

            She preferred the late night trips to mansions to do her work over being ogled by police officers; it was as if they’d never seen a good-looking woman in a skirt before. Behind the glass of the interrogation room she could see Emma, her face down on the desk cradled in her arms. She had on her red leather jacket but Regina could glimpse that she was still wearing the shirt she’d stolen that morning and as soon as she entered the room her head shot straight up. Despite the situation she couldn’t help a somewhat dopey smile.

            “Hey.”

            She had started to glean a bit of amusement from Regina constantly showing up to bail her out, showing up looking annoyed and reluctant but still always showing up. It nearly overshadowed the fact that this would not be another easy case, a matter reflected in Regina’s angry expression and the way she threw the folder she was carrying, Emma’s folder, onto the table.

 

            “Why didn’t you tell me this was going on?”

That wasn’t what she had expected; it implied more concern with her honesty than with what had taken place. Emma sputtered, “It didn’t come up.”

            Nothing had really come up in the previous nights activities besides a lot of swear words and Emma’s name a few times.

 

            “They’re saying you killed somebody.”

 

The good-time Emma was kind of having disappeared and it wasn’t because she was reminded of why exactly she was here, it was because Regina actually sounded disappointed with her. Emma’s gaze flickered worriedly to the police officer still standing guard in the corner of the room; Regina regained her composure.

            “Officer, is my client under arrest?”

He was reluctant to answer but eventually managed, “No, but the detectives would like to ask her some questions in hopes of clearing this up for everyone.”

 

            “That sounds reasonable pending my speaking with her in private, I’m sure you can run along and find an office for us to appropriate.”

 

            The officer nodded and left to do so not looking pleased with taking orders. As soon as he was gone Emma opened her mouth, “Regina I-“

“Don’t.”

She indicated the one-way mirror behind her.

“Save it until we don’t have an audience.”

 

            The police force had managed to provide slightly more comfortable accommodations in the form of an unused office but the four minutes of silence it had taken them to do so were among the most agonizing of Emma’s life. By the time they had reached privacy she had constructed a justification of her behavior.

            “Look, I didn’t say anything because-“

“I don’t care, did you do this?”

 

            Regina indicated the file, and Emma knew her sudden disinterest in her reasons was to avoid looking too concerned with their personal affairs.

            “No.”

“I need you to tell me the truth.”

 

            Emma didn’t like being treated like she was guilty.

“You don’t believe me?”

            “I need you to be honest with me if I’m going to defend you.”

Emma hesitated long enough to look Regina in the eyes.

            “I didn’t do it.”

She placed the folder on the desk. There was only one chair but she didn’t feel like sitting down.

 

            “Okay, then tell me what did happen, who is this?”

She pointed to a picture in the file, it was of a rugged looking man in uniform.

“His name is-…was Graham.”

            The intonation of grief made Regina look up from the file, “Who was he?”

“A detective.”

            “Who was he to you?”

As soon as she asked she was surprised to find she dreaded the answer and it didn’t look much like Emma wanted to give it to her.

            “We slept together.”

 

Foreign jealousy zapped through her, she tried to smother it.

            “You slept with a police officer. Regularly?”

“A few times.”

 

             Regina didn’t know why she was surprised, of course she slept with other people, they both did. That was part of the agreement and while sleeping with a police officer (as a career criminal) was it’s own particular brand of stupid she couldn’t say casual sex with her lawyer was much better. She massaged her temples.

           

“So how did the detective end up dead?”

“I went by his house a few days ago and he was dead.”

            “Just dead?”

Emma’s fleeing a crime would explain the sudden arrival in town as well as the lack of preface to the rough sex. Recounting the details of the crime scene now seemed difficult for her and Regina tried not to let that hurt her feelings.

 

            “He’d been shot, I tried to revive him.”

“Getting your fingerprints all over everything in the process.”

            “The police showed up and I booked it.”

“Making yourself look even more guilty, and what? You decided to come to my house because you knew you were about to be arrested?”

 

            Emma didn’t have anything to say to that and Regina was even angrier, she was fine using people but being used was not her style.

 

            “Okay, I’m going to tell you what this looks like. It looks like you shot your detective boyfriend, for which I’m sure they can come up with any number of motives and seeing as you have a rap sheet the length of a Russian novel establishing your character isn’t going to be difficult. Since you were at the scene of the crime you have no alibi and police hate cop-killers so if you’re innocent,”

            The implication stung Emma to wincing.

“Then I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

            “He wasn’t my boyfriend.”

            She pretended not to hear and referred again to the file.

 

“Luckily it doesn’t look like they have a murder weapon, you don’t own any guns do you?”

            “Not officially.”

            Regina’s eyes snapped onto her, “This isn’t funny. You are in danger.”

Emma nodded, she knew that and was being ever more reminded by Regina’s cold over-professional operations in handling things. She was just trying through banter to remind herself that the woman now systematically categorizing evidence as to whether or not she’d killed a man was the same one who she wouldn’t admit she’d driven three hours to make a point to wake up next to the night before the shit hit the fan.

            “At least I got you.”

 

Regina looked away from her without giving confirmation of that and Emma felt her heart sink, the folder was snapped closed.

            “Okay, we’re leaving.”

“I thought we were going to answer questions.”

 

            The file was tucked under Regina’s arm as she opened the door without looking back to make sure Emma was going to follow her.

            “After what you just told me? That’s not happening.”


	2. Chapter 2

“How did Gold get this?”

            Regina checked her rearview mirror while changing lanes.

“I stopped asking that question a long time ago.”

            Gold was a procurer specializing in the dubiously legal; it was why he practiced actual law so seldom. He was more of a man to provide and facilitate than enter the arena himself. Emma’s increased concern over the file was piquing her curiosity.

            “Did you read this?”

“Only what was pertinent, why?”

            “There’s stuff in here from before I was eighteen, hospital stays, tax records.”

“It is shocking to think you’ve ever paid taxes.”

            Emma finally broke focus on the file to roll her eyes, “Not the point. This is my whole life, who has this kind of stuff?”

“A man you should be happy is on your side. Where am I dropping you off?”

            The way Emma sat in her car always bothered her, she made a point of pushing the passenger’s seat nearly as far back as it could go and then slouching.

            “Just drop me off at the bus station. I’ll have to leave my car here for awhile”

Hitting a red light Regina hit the breaks with unnecessary force causing the car to stop abruptly. Emma, without a seatbelt, was nearly thrown up against the dashboard and came out of it looking at Regina like she was crazy.

“What the hell?”

The car beside them rolled up slowly, unaffected.

“The bus station?”

“You didn’t honestly think I was going to stay in town when they’re trying to convict me of murder?”

“Are you asking me if I think you’re an idiot?”

“I thought that was why we left the police station.”

“We left the police station so they couldn’t force you to confess to anything. Which would have made your case even more impossible.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

            Emma had closed the folder and tucked it into the slot on the inside of the door; she was upset and uncertain but more than that she was afraid. This question was not rhetorical. She needed Regina’s advice. Charged with panic she continued speaking.

R

            “Look, I’m me, and with the evidence they have…even you thought I might have done it. If someone’s trying to frame me then they’re doing a hell of a job and I’ve spent enough time in prison to never want to go back.”

            Regina hadn’t hands were tight on the steering wheel, her arms nearly straight as she stared out the windshield with her lips pursed, waiting for Emma to finish, “You’re done?”

            Emma scowled.

“You want me to tell you what to do? Don’t run, I thought criminals knew that? They will catch you and when they do, not even I will be able to help you.”

            “So what?” Emma swallowed, “I’m supposed to just wait around until they decide to throw me in prison.”

            “No, you’re supposed to trust me to do my job.”

Emma looked down at floor mat and the car behind them honked, without either of them noticing the light had turned green, Regina gunned it into the intersection causing Emma to grab the handle above the door for support.

            “Now, where am I dropping you off?” 

* * *

 

            Emma had picked a downtown hotel where she claimed to have parked her car but Regina didn’t believe her. Getting out of the car Emma had looked back and thanked her with the tone of an apology, in all likelihood she was already across the state line and regardless of how badly she wanted to, there was nothing she could do. The urge to keep Emma from making a stupid decision and screwing up her future was balanced by the knowledge that she was a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions even if they were terrible ones. The line between the work of a good lawyer and entangling her personal affairs with her professional was a thin one. Anything other than being as divested as possible, in her mind, ran the risk of appearing clingy and from a fiscal standpoint Emma’s resolution to go unrepresented meant that she avoided a tough case that would no doubt commandeer more of her time than she could spare. Then there was the matter of payment; Emma’s assets were inconsistent at best and at worst completely confiscated. There was nothing practical to gain from trying to help her; yet as soon as she’d returned to work she’d set to making copies of the police records and put in a request to Gold for Graham’s dossier which he’d met with a smug expression of awareness. He had said it would be a ‘ top priority.’

 

            “Don’t suppose you could use a hand?”

The copy machine had jammed part way through her duplication of officer accounts, which had required her to open one of the massive front panels in search of the problem. At first she’d thought it was Ruby trying to score points with her but the accent said otherwise, instead it was Belle who was smiling at her from the doorway.

A long time ago she’d asked Gold for her own copy machine but he’d refused the idea, saying she’d be even more unapproachable if she had an excuse to never leave her office. Regina had responded by ordering one herself, but the thing had a mysterious tendency to fall in to disrepair. That was to say, Gold kept sabotaging it as punishment for her disobedience.

            This was a prime example of why she needed her own things.

 

“I can take care of it, if I didn’t know how to clear a copier I wouldn’t have made partner.”

            She smiled for the sake of politeness, but it didn’t sound like a joke. Belle’s expression faltered at the overt animosity.

            “Mr. Gold told me you wouldn’t be nice.”

“I’m assuming he also told you not to get your hopes up for us getting along.”

            “Something similar.”

            Regina extracted a particularly crumpled and ink-smeared piece of paper from the copiers innards and shut the front panel with a sharp snap.

            “My first and only piece of advice as your mentor is to heed his advice”

She tossed the piece of paper into the nearby trashcan.

            “I bet you say that to all the interns.”

Whatever Belle’s intention she was only succeeding at getting on Regina’s nerves and while she appreciated her dedication to being as irritating as possible in the interest of not being ignored it wasn’t how Regina did business. If only her copies would print a little faster. This was typical, it had happened with interns before though none had yet been so bold to try it on their first day at the firm. Anyone who knew her name was inevitably aware of her reputation and any interest in it was best culled early. She turned from the copy’s steady shuffling hum to better punctuate her point.

            “Ms….?”

“French.”

            “Right,” Regina smiled venom, “Don’t delude yourself into thinking I don’t know my reputation or what is said about me and definitely don’t think that you knowing about it makes you any different from the dozen of other interns that have tried this with me. Also, while I’m flattered by your fascination with me I think we’ll both be happier if you mind your own business.”

 

            There was the sound of footsteps and Ruby appeared in the doorway as if she’d just jogged from her desk, she stopped dead at the tension of the room, “Everything okay?” Belle looked away from Regina as reassurance that nothing even remotely hostile had been taking place.

            “Of course, what’s up?”

“Someone’s here to see Regina from the police department.”

            “Did you ask what it was about?”

She was surprised when Ruby nodded, asking for context before letting people waltz up to Regina’s office was a mistake she was prone to making.

            “She wouldn’t say but she’s not in uniform.”

 

             Regina had expected fallout for taking Emma from the police station; she had made a point not to inform any of the officers and only notified the clerk as a formality hoping to delay detection. It was a risky decision to make but being that she didn’t think the police were considering actual justice a priority she thought it best to get Emma away. It was better than them harassing her until she said something they could use; Regina had little faith in the police force’s integrity, especially when a dead police officer was involved. Honestly, she had expected a phone call and getting a visit from a detective didn’t bode well for Emma. The woman standing in front of Ruby’s desk had fantastic posture, she hadn’t bothered to sit down or feign trying to look comfortable. Instead she stood a foot or two back from the desk waiting to be addressed as if she’d been frozen. First impression said military family, maybe Chinese heritage, very serious for a young woman.

“Regina Mills?”

“Yes.”

There was no immediate inkling of expression at this; instead she pulled out her badge and identification.

            “I’m Detective Mulan Hua, I’m here regarding Emma Swan.”

“Of course, we can speak in my office if you’d like.”

            “That’s fine, this won’t take more than a few seconds.”

“If you say so.”

            Detective Mulan Hua, she noticed, was dressed in what might have been considered men’s attire. The button-up shirt she wore was not fitted to pull in at the waist in hopes of complimenting her chest and her shoes were not the slightly heeled boots sometimes typical of women in her profession. The ensemble was well tailored and fit but of a marked style. Regina didn’t blame her, female detectives were on the rare side and having spent even the minutes she had in the police station earlier that day she could see the benefits.

 

            “Earlier today you removed Ms. Swan from police custody?”

“As was my right, she wasn’t under arrest.”

            “The intention had been to place Ms. Swan under arrest, the officer you spoke with didn’t see fit to inform you but didn’t expect you to leave the premises.”

“What crime is my client accused of?”

            “For involvement in the murder of Detective Graham Humbert.”

“Do you have a murder weapon or motive?”

This caught Mulan off-guard, though Regina wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been looking.

            “I can’t give you details on an ongoing investigation, at least not until I have Miss. Swan in custody. That’s why I’m here, do you know where she is?”

            “I dropped her off at her hotel a few hours ago.”

Mulan nodded as if expecting that to be her answer, Ruby returned from the copy room and took her seat at her desk,

“What hotel was that?”

“The Prestwould, downtown.”

This too, Mulan had expected.

            “We ran her credit card statements and checked with the hotel, it doesn’t look like she’s actually staying there. Is there anywhere else she might be?”

The implication that Emma was on the run was causing Regina’s chest to tighten.

            “Not that I know of, she hasn’t been in contact with me.”

“Not that you would have to tell me if she had.”

            Regina’s eyes narrowed at the accusation.

“I assure you detective, I know what’s in my client’s best interests.”

“Of course, but I do have to ask if there’s any possibility she’s at your residence?”

From the corner of her eye she saw Ruby look up from her computer screen to take interest in the conversation. Great, that was exactly what she needed. Mulan maintained eye contact, the message was clear: the police force knew they were involved and intended to use it. This fact gave Regina pause, it was uncomfortable to have the authorities aware of her personal affairs.

“There’s no possibility of that.”

“Are you sure? Does she have a key?”

            “I am sure and no, I’m the only one with keys to my house.”

No she wasn’t, it was more than possible that in Emma’s brain hiding out in her house was a completely acceptable strategy and it wouldn’t be the first time she’d broken in.

“That’s all I needed but if it’s okay I’d like to leave you my card? Just in case she contacts you.”

Regina took the offered business card and forced a smile.

“Of course, you’ll be the first to know.”

            Mulan didn’t look like she bought that even for a moment but did seem to appreciate her cooperation and made a point to thank Ruby for her help before leaving.

Regina waited for Ruby to ask why a police detective had reason to believe that Emma might have a key to her house but the awkward introductory particle never came. Instead Ruby had returned to her work and only looked up at her when she lingered longer than she’d meant to, “Did you need anything else?”

            “No, thank you.”

Ruby smiled, “Let me know.”

 

* * *

 

            Regina had hoped, if only because it would be easiest for everybody, that when she opened her door that evening Emma would be asleep on the couch or sitting at the island in the kitchen looking like she thought she’d done something clever but she wasn’t there. Regina came home, as she always did, to an empty house. To stave off the silence she opened her briefcase, she’d brought home all of the affidavits she copied from the police records as well as Graham’s dossier (which Gold, true to his word, had delivered before the end of the day). Strategically, the affidavits were the sound choice to go over first being more relevant to the case but after pouring herself a glass of wine it was Graham’s file that she selected. He had been, apparently, exceptional. Good-looking and laden with commendations for police service, no doubt the shining pillar of community concern and exemplary law-enforcement, if she squinted she could see the appeal. Her attempts at remaining unbiased were not succeeding and her tendency to check herself diminished with each sip of wine. The awareness that Emma, who had been sleeping with this man, did not seem to have trusted her proportionately increased.

This was a waste of time, familiarizing herself with Emma’s preferences felt a lot like torture but she read compulsively: He was a top-ranked marksman on the force, he had a large pet dog, he’d been born in the UK.

This was pointless. Emma didn’t want her help.

             Emma had chosen to run, Regina turned the page and found herself looking at the crime scene photos. The coroner reported the cause of death as a single gunshot wound to the chest, stopping his heart if not destroying it. Crime scene photos no longer bothered her, they were common in her profession and squeamishness could cost you a point of view on one of the mot important aspects of what you were defending your client against. Whoever had shot Graham they’d been further away, there were no burn patterns from gunpowder and the entry wound was clean. If this was an escalated lover’s quarrel, a crime of passion, it was much more likely that the deed would have been done close up. Even the use of a gun pointed towards a stranger but that had two possible interpretations: that Emma was not the perpetrator or that she had no feelings for him that would have inflamed enough to lead to murder. Regina didn’t know which she preferred. There was no alibi in his time of death and the door hadn’t been forced open implying that he knew his attacker. By her third glass of wine she’d spread the pieces of paper across the coffee table and was trying to convince herself that Emma’s running was a good thing as the case was impossible.

             She had no hint to Emma’s motives, if she was going to run why did she even bother to come back? The question occurred at first in anger and then in actual curiosity. Emma’s whole reason for ‘bothering her’ had been in anticipation of needing a lawyer and running didn’t fit with that. As this dawned on her there was a knock at the door and she filled with a sudden hope, so much so that she nearly ran to answer it. On her porch was Emma with a large paper bag looking like she was bracing to be yelled at. Regina hid any hint of excitement.

“The police are looking for you.”

“I know,” She offered the bag, “I brought Chinese, figured you hadn’t gotten dinner.”

            “Chinese?”

Emma smirked but remained cautious, “I thought it was more romantic than McDonald’s.”

            “I don’t care about the food, where have you been?”

            Without invitation Emma stepped over the threshold and past Regina, pulling the thick folder Gold had on her out from behind the bag of Chinese food.

            “If you’re going to represent me I have to be honest right?”

“Ideally.”

            “Then we’re going to talk.”

“How long will this take?”

            Emma furrowed her brow at what she perceived was Regina being impatient with her serious emotional revelations.

            “I don’t know. Do you have some important thing to get to?”

“No, not that. The police know about our…situation. Today I had a detective ask if I was hiding you, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had surveillance on my house and now that I’m doing exactly what I told them I wasn’t we won’t have a lot of time.”

            “Wow, okay,” Emma nodded then realized something, “Regina I’m so sorry.”

“I was complicit, don’t think you did this to me. The point is, if you want to run you should probably start.”

            Instead of bolting for the backdoor Emma moved into the dining room and set the bag of food down on the table, she opened it and started unpacking.

            “I’ll give you the short version, come on I want to eat before I get arrested.”

 

“So you have a son?”

            Emma was scarfing down chopstick loads full of Lo Mein between tidbits of intimate personal information, Regina was reading over a birth certificate.

            “Uh-huh,” She talked through a mouth full of food, “When I was eighteen. In jail and before you ask the father’s out of the picture. I gave him up for adoption but he ended up in the foster care system.”

            “Which one?”

“This one, he lives at a group home downtown.”

            Regina looked up from the file, “You’ve visited him?”

“I volunteer, he doesn’t know. I grew up in the system. I just wanted to make sure he had someone looking out for him.”

            “That’s illegal.”

Emma shoveled another large portion of noodles into her mouth before switching over to the sesame chicken.

            “Right, sorry, forgot career criminals don’t do illegal things.”

“What’s his name?”

            “Henry.”

Regina looked at her as if she’d said something she recognized.

            “Did you name him?”

“Nope, I don’t know who did, why?”

            “That was my father’s name.”

“Shit.”

            Emma put down the chicken and finally seemed to swallow.

“Anyway, that’s where I’ve been. I figured if I was getting arrested I wanted to go by and tell him I might not be around for a while.”

            “How long has he been at the group home?”

“Too long, big surprise the system isn’t working,” She paused, looking forlorn, “But Regina he’s so smart.”

            Regina didn’t make eye contact; she kept rereading the same line of text in the folder. No wonder Emma had been concerned with her having read the entire file, she had a son to whom she couldn’t confess her identity and who was going through the familiar experience of being failed by the foster care system. Even she could empathize.

They were interrupted by another knock at the door that let them know they were out of time. Emma looked to the door with poorly concealed fear and stood up to get her jacket. Regina wiped her mouth on a napkin before getting up to answer it. She had been expecting Mulan but on the threshold was a young man of what appeared to be a much less serious disposition, he even smiled when she opened the door.

            “Sorry to bother you Ms. Mills, I’m Detective Phillip Samson, you spoke with my partner earlier today.”

            His smile, while well natured, begged her cooperation, behind him was a patrol car with an officer in the front seat.

            “I think you know why I’m here.”

Regina moved out of the way to give access to Emma who stood in the foyer in her leather jacket, awaiting her fate.

“You wouldn’t begrudge her the privacy of doing this inside.”

Phillip, apparently more agreeable than his counterpart, actually seemed to feel bad about the situation and stepped inside.

“Good evening Ms. Swan.”

“Hi.”

            From his belt Phillip produced a set of handcuffs.

“Is that really necessary?”

            Emma didn’t seem as opposed to the idea as Regina did, she had already started to raise her hands, complying on instinct.

“With all due respect, Ms. Swan spent the better part of her day evading arrest.”

            Regina knew it was protocol, she’d only said something for the sake of arguing. Even knowing it wouldn’t make a difference she couldn’t keep her mouth shut for the sake of trying. Seconds away from being restrained something occurred to Emma, “One more thing?”

Phillip stayed the handcuffs.

            “Can I get my fortune cookie?”

She nodded her head to the dining room to indicate the remains of their meal; Phillip might have chuckled, “Of course.”

            Emma walked over to the table, selected one of the fortune cookies from the bag and came back with her wrists up, ready to cooperate.

            “Okay.”

Phillip talked as he secured her, “Emma Swan, you’re under arrest for the murder of Graham Humbert. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law, you have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for you.”

            He looked from Emma to Regina.

“Though it doesn’t look like that will be a problem”

Regina’s face was set in stone.

            “No, it won’t.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that in some states the bail schedule for second degree murder is automatically remand but I couldn't find the one for Massachusetts so I didn't mention a specific amount. It just wasn't conducive to have her in jail the whole fic.

Emma hadn’t slept at all in her holding cell.

            That meant something, she knew, but but didn’t care enough to remember. All Emma cared about was that she was exhausted and alone. The Drunk Tank must have been down the hall, as every now and then she’d hear shouts that didn’t sound like anything and the scuffling squeaks of someone being dragged. She wished she were in the Drunk Tank; someone there might have had a watch.

            This is how it went: they’d booked her the night before but kept her in a holding cell, most likely to speak with a prosecutor whenever it was convenient for them. Regina would be there for that.

There had been no reason to make her one phone call.

            By the time Phillip knocked on the window to her holding cell she could not be sure how long she’d been there, he held a plastic bag up to the glass. His kindness towards her so far had been unprecedented, it wasn’t uncommon for detectives to find bias, innocent until proven guilty was a wonderful byline but everyone established their own opinions. If Phillip was rooting for her then she wouldn’t complain, he seemed a pleasant ally but it did little to quell her frustration. The slot on the door for taking fingerprints and cuffing detainees was wide enough for him to force the Styrofoam container into her holding cell and they had to speak over the intercom.

            “Hope you like scrambled eggs and almost forgot.”

From one of the pockets of his coat he produced a plastic bottle of milk and slid it through behind the food, she felt twelve.

            “Didn’t know if you did skim or whole so I went with the middle ground.”

He had even been nice enough to include the silverware and the smell of food made her aware of how hungry she was, the Chinese the night before had not sustained her through sleeplessness. It may have done nothing for her grievances but at least it helped with her appetite.

            “Are you sure you’re a police officer?”

Emma made a point not to shovel the food into her mouth; despite his kindness she’d learned better than to trust police tactics and the likelihood that this could be her last decent meal for a while was genuine.

            “Got the badge to prove it.”

Emma scoffed into her eggs, “Trust me, that’s not proof of anything.”

 

“I’m your arresting officer, if you starved in prison I might look bad.”

            “And here I thought you were just a nice guy.”

“I’ve just never seen a point in undue cruelty.”

            “Not even towards suspected murderers?”

 

Phillip looked down at his loafers not in a new understanding but in consideration and a scrutiny of morality far loftier than her question should have evoked. His guilt read plainly on his face. She set her eggs down on the undressed bench of her holding cell and approached the glass; he did not bother to look up until she was close and she was certain that his kindness was not, entirely, of good character.

            “You know I didn’t do it.”

He tried to salvage his expression.

            “Innocent until proven guilty.”

“You want to talk about guilt, how much is bringing me scrambled eggs helping your conscience? Because I’m gonna bet its not nearly enough.”

            “Ms. Swan, I know in your situation it’s easy to feel like everything’s against you but-“

“I’m used to everything against me, I can handle that. You trying to nice-guy your way out of whatever shit you’re involved in is not everything against me, its you being a crook instead of doing your job. Who’s setting me up?”

            “I’m just trying to help, Ms. Swan.”

“Bullshit.”

            “Is there a problem?”

 

            The tone of authority almost sounded like Regina but it was Phillip’s partner who walked into the view of her cell, they had not been formally introduced and Emma didn’t think that would be remedied any time soon. Whatever guilt assailed Phillip, his counterpart was either immune to it or uninvolved. “We’re fine.”

            “Good.”

She lifted up the slot on the outside of the door.

            “Hands.”

 

* * *

 

“Murder in the first? Well, well, aren’t we optimistic.”

            The assistant DA was a tall, handsome African American man and between him and Regina Emma thought the courtroom would look like one of those lawyer shows where everyone could have just moved in from Los Angeles. Emma had tried to read some of the paperwork in interest of her own defense but knowing it wouldn’t change much encouraged her to leave it to Regina. The room for their negotiations was easily three times the size of her holding cell and she welcomed the plush seat cushions. The charges leveled against her had been repeated unto insignificance and she had not yet been able to discuss with Regina her suspicions about Phillip. Her impatience and the tension it caused had led to her leg bouncing like a piston in habit beneath the table.

            “Do you have a murder weapon?”

            Phillip’s partner had been harsh with the handcuffs and two light red impressions echoed their previous position on her wrists, she rubbed at the rings with her thumbs as if trying to buff them out.

            “We have not, at this time, recovered the murder weapon.”

Regina smiled like she was having her time wasted.

            “Then to be honest with you Mr. Lake, I’m not sure why my client is here.”

As if he’s been waiting for the challenge of their meeting’s legitimacy Mr. Lake pulled a new packet of paper from his briefcase; his expression remained one of uninterrupted good will.

            “This is a signed affidavit from the partner of the deceased stating that Mr. Humbert feared for his safety following a disagreement with Miss. Swan over her alleged criminal activity. It also contains a subsequent conversation regarding Mr. Humbert’s plans to turn Miss. Swan into the authorities. And while no murder weapon has been recovered Mr. Humbert’s only firearm was found at the scene, implying that whoever killed him premeditated the attack.”

 

            “And in no way does that signify an intent to kill.”

“Except for that the wound was inflicted directly to the chest. I suppose whoever killed him just thought it would sting a little.”

The argument was made despite a slip in her confidence at the disclosure the affidavit and she had nothing yet with which to return fire; the speed of Emma’s leg increased nearly shaking her seat until under the lip of the table Regina set her hand on her knee. Whether it was intended as a gesture of comfort or just Regina trying to keep her still she couldn’t tell but she felt an immediate and unfamiliar sensation of security.

            “Could I have a moment with my client?”

“By all means, I’ll take a coffee break. Would either of you want anything?”

            If they were going to frame her for murder they had every intention of being kind in the process. Regina answered for both of them.

            “We’re fine, thank you.”

            As soon as the door had closed behind him Regina removed her hand and took up the affidavit, the sudden presence of a motive bothered her. Emma intended to elaborate on the argument as soon as the matter of Phillip had been discussed.

            “Phillip’s in on it.”

She might as well have been announcing the weather with the interest Regina took.

            “Who’s Phillip?”

“The guy who arrested me. He knows I’m being framed.”

“And I suppose he told you that?”

            The reality that Emma had not somehow liberated herself with this information discouraged her.

            “No, but the way he acted-“

“Is something I’ll worry about once you look less like you’ve killed a man in cold blood now, is any of this true?”

            She regarded the packet as if it was coated in something unpleasant.

 

“So what? You’re just going to pretend I’m not being framed until it works?”

            “Emma, did you threaten your boyfriend?”

Every word was punctuated by a lack of patience for an answer Emma had no enthusiasm to provide; for all the confidence Emma had in Regina’s professional proficiency she had much less in her personal agenda. Their agreement not-with-standing, they were both more than capable of jealousy.

            “Stop calling him that, we had an argument. He wanted me to move in with him and to stop…working. He gave me an ultimatum.”

            “And you?”

Her wrists still ached; she wondered how long they would.

            “I chose to leave.”

A feeling of private victory swelled in Regina’s chest, apprehensive at the thought of being a factor in that decision.

            “I went back a few days later before I left and found him dead. If he was planning on turning me in I sure as hell didn’t know about it.”

            “Do you know his partner?”

“No, I didn’t meet anyone, we didn’t exactly go out much.”

With each new implication of Emma’s sexual escapades Regina felt a hot itch of rage, it smoldered in strange places, beneath her tongue and behind her neck. It preoccupied her into imagined tangents of reaffirming her territory. A rapping at the door announced the ADA’s return and he opened it carrying a cardboard tray with three paper cups.

            “I thought in case you changed your mind.”

“Of course, how considerate of you.”

            Regina’s demeanor returned to stone.

“My client admits to an argument regarding her and Mr. Humbert’s personal relationship but had no knowledge about him seeking to have her arrested. Save yourself the embarrassment- second degree.”

 

* * *

 

“How’d the arraignment go?”

            As Ruby approached her seat at the bar she looked up from her glass, wanting to personally reprimand whoever had told her which establishment the firm partners frequented. The arraignment had not gone well but she had expected nothing less; Emma had a history of evading arrest and no strong ties to the community besides an illegitimate interest in a child she’d given up for adoption and an illicit sexual relationship with her lawyer. They’d avoided remand but the bail amount was excessive and she hated failing in any sense.

            “That bad huh?”

Ruby set her purse down on the bar to take the seat beside her, “Drinking alone though, very film noir.”

 

            Regina doubted she’d ever seen a noir film or knew what she was talking about but educating her was not her responsibility. She had no intention of getting drunk but futile enterprise was better than being in her empty house, rereading the same papers. The Rabbit Hole was a bar she’d been frequenting long before working for Gold, though the firm’s proximity to the establishment had lead to more routine visits. At its conception it was a cop bar, dark wood and brass beer taps owned by a retired lieutenant, which had suited her. Around the same time she’d started practicing criminal law it’d gone through a change in management and shifted towards a lawyer clientele who now spent most of their time pretending they were still drinking with cops. It was for respectable people who did not always want to be seen doing the things for which they were paid or around the people who knew them.

            “I prefer it.”

            The moment Ruby sat down, in direct contradiction of the hint Regina had just dropped, she had the full attention of the bartender. As soon as she’d ordered her raspberry martini she turned back as if they’d been having a conversation but Regina had no craving for company, at least none she’d admit to.

“What do you want? Did Gold send you?”

“Oh. No. I’m just waiting for Belle, she’s new to town and asked which bars were good. Thought I’d show her some.”

Regina had a suspicion that Belle’s interest went beyond familiarizing herself with the area; no doubt she wanted to know the watering hole of the professionally significant.

            “If you want you can join us?”

She stifled a chuckle as she lifted her glass, the last thing she needed was to spend the night drinking with good-looking semi-children over whom she had inherent power; just the thought of feigning interest was tedious. Once again, Ruby didn’t pick up on it.

            “I could buy you a drink.”

It took all of her composure not to choke on the way out of her scotch, “Excuse me?”

There was no effort made to right her assumptions and so it seemed they were intended, the persistence in her company was not a lack of tact but an attempt at what? Seducing her? Hearing about her liaison with Emma had apparently given her the wrong idea. The tension wasn’t broken until the barman served Ruby her drink.

 

            “When will she make bail?” Ruby slid one of the garnish raspberries into her mouth with the tips of her fingers continuing as if the previous exchange was imagined, Regina wondered if actually getting up and leaving would be over the top.

            “I don’t know. I don’t post her bail.”

 

“Does she have someone who does that? I sort of thought she was rich.”

“She’s a criminal, her assets are frozen pending investigation and most of her money is from forgeries. Why am I talking to you?”

 

            “Because I’m pleasant company.”

 

The small bit of conversation she’d accomplished already had her self-satisfied, she was not a girl to be accused of cowardice and beneath the venom she knew Regina posed no real threat. Gold wouldn’t fire her for flirting if he didn’t fire Regina for sleeping with a client and getting the cold shoulder at work wouldn’t ruin her day; she’d already acclimated to it. The worst that could happen was Regina treating her like crap, which was par for the course, and she doubted it would come to more than that. She had a talent for telling when somebody didn’t want to go home and even the most apathetic people were troubled by loneliness, she knew the secret: That no one went out in public to be alone.

Regina was spared from further conversation by Ruby’s phone buzzing on the counter. If she was quick she could down her drink, pay her tab and leave while she was occupied by her text message, a plan she was part way through when a group of people entered the bar. Not expecting anyone and too busy trying to get the attention of the bartender she didn’t bother to recognize them until they were nearly within her personal space.

“Brought you a present.”

Company Regina hadn’t expected flanked Belle on either side: a man she had never met and Emma looking caught. Belle spent a moment hugging Ruby hello, no similar displays of affection were exchanged between the others. The man, who Regina was left to assume was a friend of Emma’s seemed fully aware of the ambient awkwardness.

“I found them at the firm.”

“How’d you make bail?”

            The stranger spoke up, “That’d be me.”

He offered a leather gloved hand past Belle, “August Booth.”

            Regina wasn’t looking at him but at Emma, trying to ask without asking the context of the man’s identity, when no answer was volunteered she bothered to shake his hand.

            “Regina Mills.”

Unlike Ruby, August had enough intuition to know when he wasn’t welcome and no reservations about addressing is.

            “Maybe I should leave you all to your girl’s night?”

“That’s fine, you can take my spot. I was just about to go.”

            She got the impression her lack of concern for social graces was considered impolite but she didn’t care, it was Emma’s expression she attended, the recognition that she was angry though she didn’t care to articulate why. They were welcome to their bonhomie and she was welcome to her empty house, obsessing over her work would take less energy than dealing with them. The bartender returned with her credit card and she vacated her seat before anyone could make an argument for her to stay.

            Outside it was drizzling, commuter traffic had thinned to nearly nothing and the few passing cars moved slow over roads like oil slicks. The city smelled like wet concrete and she was frustrated, she’d made no effort to check the weather and her car was still parked down by the firm. So much for a clean get away.

Emma joined her underneath the awning having left her friend inside.

            “What do you want?”

“Where’d you park?”

            “Don’t worry about it.”

Regina kept her eyes on the wet sidewalk, the streetlights had just come on and the gold color reflected in the gutters, behind her Emma put her hands in the pockets of her red leather jacket.

            “August’s a writer, we grew up together in the system.”

“Did I some how give you the impression that I cared?”

Emma continued her explanation regardless, “He made a lot of money writing memoirs and some true crime books. I told him I’d give him an interview.”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m not sleeping with him.”

With that Regina stepped out from under the awning into the rain, suddenly not caring about whether or not she got wet. Emma rushed after her lifting her jacket up over her head, using it to shield both of them from the drizzle. Regina looked annoyed but allowed it and kept a swift pace, expecting Emma to make the effort to keep up.

“Are you seriously angry at me because a guy bailed me out of prison?”

“No.”

            “Right, cause you seem totally not angry.”

“You can have whoever you want bail you out of prison, that’s not my job. My job is to make you look innocent.”

            “You mean prove that I’m innocent.”

“Semantics.”

            “Regina, I’m innocent. Now tell me what’s actually going on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “Okay, stop.”

Emma halted her efforts, her jacket settled back around her shoulders and she stood in the middle of the sidewalk, her hair was getting wet. Regina had no intention of stopping and continued her blistering pace but Emma was set on having her side of the conversation regardless.

            “Are you jealous?”

The echoing click of Regina’s heels finally stopped and she turned back around.

            “Don’t flatter yourself.”

The small droplets of rain gathered on the sleeves of Emma’s jacket and ran down over her wrists, the handcuff marks had finally faded out; Regina wasn’t even wearing a jacket. The black fabric of her dress was dark with water around the top. They weren’t far from each other but neither would be the first to move. Emma lifted her hands and dropped them in a gesture of frustration, “Are we going to keep doing this?”

“What else do you want me to do?”

“Take me home with you.”

 

If they had not been in the mindset of a standoff Regina wouldn’t have noticed the nearly imperceptible shift Emma made forward, she was not smiling as she said it. Instead she looked tired and Regina’s anger eased with the relief of being wanted.

“We can’t sleep together when I’m defending you.”

“I haven’t slept in fourty-eight hours and I have no money.”

“What about your friend?”

“He can entertain himself.”

Regina considered for a moment before relenting.

“The cars down by the firm.”

Emma nodded and walked the space between them, lifting her jacket back up to keep them from the rain.

 

Regina had illegally street-parked her Mercedes Benz every day she’d worked at Gold’s firm and had never gotten a ticket for it. There was a lot designated for the office building, a pricy high-rise, but the overflow had long since spilled into the parking deck across the street. The street parking was supposed to be one hour only but a ticket for the infraction had never materialized. The building was a newer one and garish in comparison to the old architecture that populated that part of city but so was the march of progress. As soon as they’d made it within a foot of the car Emma maneuvered her against it, still holding the jacket over their heads as they stood face to face.

“What are you doing? The back of my dress is getting wet.’

Her tone had no patience for Emma’s antics but she was determined, she let her jacket back down and Regina was irritated by the sudden sensation of being rained on. With her hands now free Emma smiled and shifted a half step forward, Regina remained stern “I said not while I’m working for you, and we’re in public.”

“Does it look like I have my hand down your pants?”

Despite her protests Emma moved in closer, pausing to hover just and inch away from kissing her as a question of permission. Regina could no longer feel how cold the water was beginning to seep through the back of her dress; instead, looking down her nose, she was only aware of the weight of her breaths. It was always like this with Emma, sudden and almost improper but heavy, something that she couldn’t just take once and never return to. It was complex and habit-forming and felt, to Regina, maddeningly authentic. Emma kissed her how she wouldn’t mind being kissed every day and had never been before, not by anyone else. They only stopped when Regina felt the rain soak through the top of her dress and by then Emma looked daringly smug.

“Get in the car.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

By the time they pulled into the driveway the drizzle had grown to rain and the distance from her car to the door was taken at a sprint. In the foyer Emma shook the water from her arms but her hair was beyond help.

            “Can I use your shower?”

Regina was busy brushing water droplets from her leather briefcase, it had taken the brunt of the downpour but her clothes were still soaked enough to warrant changing, “Sure, it’s upstairs on the right through my bedroom.”

            Emma gathered her sopping hair up into a ponytail, “I know where your bathroom is.”

            Looking up from her clothes, Regina realized her mistake; she was not accustomed to familiarity. Even with Emma the visits were normally divided by long stretches without contact and the thought that anyone beside herself knew the layout of her home was not something she’d ever considered.

            “Right, of course you do. There are towels in the hallway closet, I’ll be up in a second to change,” Emma nodded and started up the stairs, “And my pajamas are off limits.”

From the second floor she yelled down, “Who even wants to wear silk pajamas?”

            As the sound of Emma clunking around upstairs was replaced by the steady static of the shower Regina emptied her briefcase to ensure it’s contents had remained dry. Her house was big, three bedrooms in a Nuevo-Tudor style and meant for a family. It came with a commute into the city but suited her better than an apartment closer to work; she was a woman who liked her space.

            One of the bedrooms she’d converted to an office but the other remained cluttered with her parent’s things in unopened boxes. Normally at this time of night the house was silent but the constant hiss of the shower echoed down the stairs mirroring the sound of the rain outside. On the way up she saw that Emma had left every door open including the hallway closet and the hardwood in the upstairs was beaded with water. The top drawer of her dresser was ajar and as per their agreement Emma had not taken a set of pajamas. Regina unzipped her dress, the wet parts stuck and she had to peel it off of her hips, the fresh air soothed the pricking itch of soaking cloth on soaking skin. From the open door she heard Emma moving around in the shower and kept an ear out as she unclasped her bra, nothing worse than wet underwear.

 

            “Hey.”

Regina halted her progress still holding her bra up to cover herself; in the mirror over her dresser she could see Emma standing in the doorway to the bathroom in sweats and a tank top, the shower was still on.

“You’re…”

“I saw you in the mirror.”

            Emma leaned up against the doorjamb and pointed back over her shoulder at the large bathroom mirror only slightly fogged with steam, “I take quick showers.” There had been times in her life when she’d only been allowed five minutes in a shower and she’d discovered she rarely needed more.

“And you just thought you’d waste water because you knew I was paying for it?”

            Regina was confident for being the less clothed of the pair, Emma pouted.

“I like the steam, ever get out of a shower into a cold bathroom? Sucks.”

            Looking abashed, Emma leant over and turned off the water. They had never really taken the time to register one another’s quirks.

            “Are those mine?”

Emma looked down at her outfit.

“They were in your dresser? They okay?”

            “Fine.”

As Emma didn’t seem particularly eager to look elsewhere Regina turned to step away from her mirror and remove her bra. There was no established protocol for dressing and undressing when there wasn’t sex in between and so being she knew the precise effect turning her back would have. She could almost count down the seconds until she felt Emma’s hands on her hips. The shower left her warm, her hair wet and tousled down her back, Regina’s skin was the clammy type of cold caused by being caught in the rain.

            “Unless you intend to fire me _Ms. Swan_ I insist you remove your hands.”

Emma groaned and took a step back flopping onto the bed sideways, she had spent the better part of the first months of their knowing one another trying to convince her that they were friendly enough to use first names. Victorious, Regina selected some pajamas from the open drawer; she’d grab her robes on the way out

“What are you doing?”

Emma wriggled her way up onto her preferred side of the bed; face down in the pillow her answer came out muffled, “Tired.”

            “Did I say you were sleeping in my bed?”

“I can’t hear you. I’m asleep.”

            Regina scoffed and made to leave the room, apparently Emma wasn’t asleep enough to ignore her and she picked her head up from the pillow to check where she was headed.

“Where you going?”

            “To look over Graham’s partner’s statements.”

“Why?”

            “Right, how silly of me to act as if your future is hanging in the balance.”

“Nothing in those files is going to tell you whose framing me.”           

It was true, Regina had already looked over the statements, the affidavits, every report that had come across her desk had been categorized, summarized and put in its proper place and here she was, a woman in her bed, a woman she had something of a fondness for and her instincts told her it was safer to be otherwise occupied.

            “I’m not tired.”

That was a lie but Emma wasn’t fighting anymore, “Fine, goodnight.”

Regina hit the lights on the way out without saying anything.  

 

* * *

 

“You’re going to love me for this.”

Sidney slid into the chair across from her looking giddy, it had been agreed upon earlier in their partnership that their meetings would take place outside of any atmosphere that could be misconstrued as professional for the sake of secrecy. Hiring private investigators as a lawyer was common practice but became slightly more suspicious when they’d been hired to investigate members of the police force. Not to mention the fact that Sidney’s methods weren’t always legal in the strictest sense.

“Isn’t that hopeful. What do you have for me?”

A folder was passed across the table; her life had been nothing but folders lately.

            “Our boy Phillip is actually pretty clean, recent commendations, comes from a police family with a dad in the brass. He’s in AA but who on the force isn’t nowadays.”

            “So much for anonymity, I’m not impressed yet, keep talking.”

“He does have his skeletons in the closet. A few years ago he nearly lost his job, no doubt thanks to the booze. Daddy had it buried but this is where it get’s really interesting, check the last photo.”

            Regina leafed through to the final installment of the folio, a photo of Phillip and a girl. She was pretty, young- the pair of them together looked like an ad pulled from a wedding magazine. Phillip wore the expression of a young man very much in love.

            “Girlfriend?”

“Fiancé, Aurora Rosenfeld.”

            “As in the stock trader?”

“The very daughter of.”

            Rosenfeld was worth the capital of a small city and despite her inability to name her children she was more than capable of facilitating a hit on whomever she deemed appropriate but whether or not Emma had ever crossed paths with her was another matter. It was not yet enough information to give Sidney the satisfaction of a ‘job well done.’

“How nice for them, but for me worthless. Give me something I can use.”

Sidney’s expression remained undaunted assuring her that he had a trump card stuffed somewhere up his sleeve, no doubt he was keeping it hidden to act as a revelation at the appropriate moment of drama.

“Your wish is my command.”

From the inside of his jacket, stowed like a treasure map, he produced his ace. Like it’s counterpart it was a photograph though significantly blurrier, the right side was obscured by something dark as if it was taken from a hiding place but the left was the matter of interest. Two people stood embracing on the stoop of an expensive looking brownstone, the first Regina could now recognize as Aurora looking somewhat distraught and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the second- Mulan stood on the sidewalk with Phillip’s fiancé’s arms around her neck, looking belonging but distraught and in doing so betraying more emotion that Regina would have guessed she was capable of.

“You’re kidding.”

“Looks like a bit more than friendly bonding, wouldn’t you agree?”

Mulan, to her, didn’t seem the type but then again it’d been proven to her time and time again that nobody ever seemed likely to do things until they’d done them.

            “So what do you think Phillip’s partner might know anything about what he’s involved in?”

“I think I’m going to find out.”

 

* * *

 

The door to Regina’s office opened and Emma missed catching the ball she was throwing against the ceiling. At first she’d thought it was Regina and had jerked her feet off of her desk fast enough to pull a muscle. Emma had been left to her own devices at the firm while Regina went to meet ‘sources’ at the claim that the two of them together would attract any and all police attention that might have been allotted to them. It was safer if she had her illegitimate business meetings without the police catching wind of it. Regina’s office had been pretty boring for the most part, the drawers were all locked and it wasn’t as if she kept a wide array of entertainment on hand. Emma had even suspected that she’d warned everyone in the office away from speaking with her until Ruby showed up.

She stood in the doorway with a kind of open-mouthed, surprised smile.

“You’re…Emma, right? I’m sorry last night I didn’t introduce myself. Ruby Lucas.”

            It looked as if she’d dropped by to deliver something to Regina but had no reservations about acquainting herself.

            “Emma Swan,” she had to lean over the desk to shake hands.

“Yeah, I know about you.”

            That was a surprise.

“Really?”

            “Uh-huh.”

“Sorry, its just Regina is kind of…”

“Yeah, she is,” Ruby looked exasperated at the thought of Regina’s personality, “but when your case came up she dropped everything. So take that for what it’s worth.”

She wanted badly to be flattered but she was hesitant to chalk Regina’s habit of fervor up to any sort of emotional attachment, she naturally took everything seriously and more than anything loved a challenge. Their relationship worked as it was and Emma had long since shook out the hope of anything more. The idea that she would have a stable relationship was bizarre enough without adding Regina’s complexities into the mix.

“Eh, who knows, it’s Regina.”

“What are you talking about?”

            Behind Ruby, Regina looked between the two of them as if she’d stumbled into suspicious proceedings. When neither offered up an answer she turned her gaze on Emma as she slid past the obstruction in her doorway, “Get out of my chair.”

            Standing up she grinned at Ruby, “See what I’m talking about?”

“No, please continue to tell private jokes about me while I’m in the room.”

Regina’s enmity didn’t seem to have its usual kick but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t continue, she shifted her attention to Ruby.

“Did you need something?”

“Oh, yeah,” She offered the packet she was carrying, “Stuff from Gold, Darling case.”

            “Tell him to allocate it to Belle, I have other things to work on.”

Ruby looked over Regina’s shoulder at Emma as if to say, ‘I told you so’ before nodding and saying, “I’ll let him know.”

            The door closed behind her.

Regina turned to look at Emma as if trying to track Ruby’s glance through the air in hopes of deciphering it, Emma just shrugged and waited a few minutes into Regina’s going through one of her desk drawers to speak again.

“Damn, that’s your receptionist? How do you get things done?”

            “I’m glad the two of you are getting along. She enjoys coming onto people when it’s wildly inappropriate so you might have a shot.”

She did not sound glad at all.

            “I was joking.”

“I don’t care, here.”

            Regina looked up from her paperwork to hand her the picture of Mulan and Aurora and Emma spent a few seconds confused at what she was looking at.

            “Phillip’s partner?”

“And his fiancé.”

            Emma’s brow furrowed as she came to understand what was happening.

“Where’d this come from?”

            “Sidney.”

“The shady reporter?”

            “He did me a favor.”

Emma didn’t seem to believe what she was seeing, from the single day she’d been incarcerated by Phillip and his partner she had somehow formulated a flattering opinion of them in which she had a good amount of faith, at least more faith than a physical photograph could shake.

“This can’t be real.”

            “Because you and Mulan are such good friends.”

Regina had her there, she’d barely spoken to the woman besides to be forcibly handcuffs but she liked to pride herself on the accuracy of her impressions of people and Mulan had seemed honorable and more than loyal to Phillip.

“Okay, so if it is, why do we care?”

“The pretty girl in the photograph is the daughter of a stock trader somewhat lacking in scruples, did you ever steal from someone named Rosenfeld?”

“No, I mean, I’ve heard of her because she’s rich but I’ve never ripped her off or anything.”

“You’re sure?”

“I try to keep track of people who might want to kill me.”

“Well, at least you have that going for you.”

“I still don’t see how this matters.”

That wasn’t entirely true, she had a rough idea of where this was going and she was hoping Regina would prove her wrong.

“If Phillip is involved in something don’t you think his partner would know?”

Not at all being proven wrong.

            “So we’re gonna what? Blackmail her into talking about it?”

Regina could tell without asking that she disapproved of her proposed methods, for a criminal she sure had an inordinate amount of moral dilemmas.

            “Do you want to find out if you’re being framed?”

“I don’t need to ruin people’s lives to know I’m being framed.”

Regina had lost her patience with Emma’s chivalry.

“How is it even possible for you to have a problem with this? You steal money for a living. A living, by the way, that you won’t even have a chance at if we don’t do what it takes to find out whose behind this, so are you going to drop the White Knight routine or should I drop you off somewhere?”

They were face to face in front of Regina’s desk Emma having stood up as she was told, she didn’t recall them being as close as she now noticed but something about the energy of an argument always increased their proximity. It was apparent that Emma wasn’t willing to compromise her morals and Regina was never one to back down so their eye contact remained unbroken, breeding a heat in her chest. Without warning Emma grabbed her by the front of her shirt and forced her up against one of the filing cabinets. There was no hesitation for permission apparently the tension of spending so much time together without physical contact, a trial Emma was unused to, had snapped at the provocation of an argument. Kissing her now felt illegitimate which lent to her getting swept up and only after a solid minute of frantic necking did she regain her composure.

            “I’m working.”

Emma was out of breath, “You’re fired.”

            “Then you’d really be screwed.”

            Despite her protests Regina barely moved her face back from Emma’s, their noses were nearly touching with the dare for her to continue and the torment of the fact that she knew she couldn’t.

            Before she could withdraw however there was a rap on one of the glass panels and the pair of them turned from their compromising position to see Belle somewhere between secondhand embarrassment and personal amusement. Emma, apparently not thinking, didn’t move away fast enough and Regina had to shove her in the chest before smoothing out her skirt and motioning for Belle to come in a little more aggressively than was probably necessary.

            When she came through the door her face was light red.

            “What do you want?”

“Ruby said you gave me the Darling case, wanted to come by for a briefing which I now feel incredibly awkward about. I’m Belle French by the way.”

            Caught up in being caught Emma didn’t realize when she offered her hand that she was introducing herself and spent a second staring at her before understanding and returning the gesture.

            “Oh, right. Emma Swan.”

            “Charmed.”

Regina was losing patience with the mock pleasantries, “I’m sure. I’ll brief you later I have an interview with a witness.” Belle raised her eyebrows and looked between the pair of them as if to say, ‘So that’s what you’re calling it’ at which Regina found reason to sneer at her. Emma was just trying to keep her hands in her pockets and not make eye contact with anybody.

“Tell Gold I’m doing foot work,” Regina picked her briefcase up off her desk attempting to hide any hint of being flustered and grabbed Emma by the wrist as if she were a child, “Which I am and if you tell him or anyone else otherwise I will ensure that you don’t have a career. Is that understood?”

There was something less threatening about a woman you just caught snogging like a horny teenager but Belle nodded, knowing it was not a bluff.

“And stop looking at me like that.”

Regina left, towing Emma by the arm behind her, Belle shouted after them, “Nice to meet you by the way.”

“You too.”

 

In the elevator Regina made a point to stand on the complete opposite side as not to tempt any further debauchery.

“She was nice.”

“Don’t encourage her.”

“What? She was. Why am I not allowed to be friends with your friends? Also why do only really good-looking young women work for your firm?”

            “They aren’t my friends and I don’t know, ask Gold.”

After that Emma kept quiet until they reached the ground floor.

            “Where are we going?”

“I’m dropping you off and then I’m going to speak with Mulan.”

            “I thought that was a thing that wasn’t happening.“

“Which is why I’m dropping you off.”

            “Hey, it’s my case, you can’t just-“

They had reached her car.

“If I remember correctly Miss. Swan you just fired me so the say that you have over what I do has just resolved itself. Get in the car.”

Emma groaned and opened the passenger’s side door.

“Shut up, it was a moment of weakness.”


	5. Chapter 5

Mulan’s case-load was ridiculous, she’d volunteered to take the half of the work orphaned by Phillip’s need to focus on his approaching wedding with hopes that exhausting herself would limit her capacity to contemplate the happy couple. It hadn’t worked. Instead it’d weakened the defenses she’d built against her own impulses and she’d made the mistake of visiting Aurora for the first time since the engagement party. For a month and a half she’d found an excuse to dodge every celebratory dinner, brushed off any request for an opinion on flower arrangements and had woefully neglected her duties as best man. Phillip had made excuses for her but Aurora had known better than to believe her repeated absences were coincidental and she’d said as much, but it was all Mulan could do to try and right things. This was not how it was supposed to be, she’d become a cliché: the detective with feelings for her partner’s wife- soon to be wife, going to be wife.

The words on the pages had lost recognizable shape, transmuted into meaningless squiggles by her lack of sleep. The precinct office was filled with people making phone-calls and having conversations over paperwork but she’d make no progress without focus. She unwrapped her jacket from the back of her chair and fumbled trying to put it on, how long had it been since she’d had a good night’s rest? Her conscience had been torturing her. She slid out of the occupied office and into the hallway.

“Hey.”

On instinct her hand snapped to the gun holstered under her arm, her fried nerves had her jumping at shadows. The wideness is Aurora’s eyes was purely reflexive, she knew Mulan wouldn’t hurt her even on accident; she simply wasn’t capable of it.

“It’s just me.”

Aurora held onto the strap of her purse a few yards away, Mulan moved within feet of her and lowered her voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“The other day we didn’t exactly-“

            “You should leave.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

            “I’m not leaving.”

“You’re wearing your jacket walking away from the office.”

            “I’m just getting some fresh air.”

“I’ll get some fresh air with you then.”

            “I’m fine.

“Have you eaten today?”

            “I have work to do.”

“Phillip says you’ve hardly been going home and you haven’t come to any of the dinners or to help me pick out my dress-”

            “Swan’s lawyer isn’t messing around and neither can I, I’m working like this so you don’t have to plan your wedding without your fiancé.”

            She hadn’t meant for the comment to sound so biting but she thought she saw Aurora wince. Wherever she had just come from it didn’t look like she’d been planning to go out, her hair was tied up in a pile at the back of her head and she wasn’t wearing much make-up.

            “Where does he think you are?”

“Oh, I’m staying at my mom’s.”

            For a moment Mulan was terrified that they’d fought, that Aurora’s difficulty lying had finally led to some sort of admission and that tomorrow Phillip wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye, the dread was accompanied by a tentative relief.

            “Why?”

“She took time off from work so we could have family time before she ‘gives me away’ and she never takes time off so.... Not to mention the planning is pretty high stress, some time apart is good.”

Of course, that was all. No cataclysmic confession. Aurora cleared her throat.

“We need to talk don’t we?”

“No, we don’t.”

“I don’t want you to just disappear from my life, okay? You’re important to me.”

            The entire time they’d been speaking Mulan had been unable to keep eye contact, the few seconds she could manage slipped quickly into focusing on her shows or other things that didn’t matter. It suited her to ignore things that she didn’t want to admit to herself; as far as she was concerned that was how you made them disappear. Aurora didn’t agree, she was surprisingly willful about her secrets and wouldn’t relent until Mulan was too.

            “It’s just until after the wedding.”

To her surprise Aurora scoffed, finally commanding her direct attention.

            “You think that a wedding will magically fix this? That a ring will somehow get rid of my feelings?”

            Actually she had, she’d thought that as soon as they’d said I do everything would be like it was supposed to and all the guilt would vanish. Now that seemed silly. Someone passed, causing her to movie into the buffer of space Mulan had put between them, her voice lowered to a whisper.

“I’ve been having nightmares, I’m terrified that I’m making the wrong choice.”

“You’re not,” she said it without any doubt, “this is the right choice, marrying Phillip, don’t think for a second that it isn’t.”

 She looked down at Mulan’s shoes and chuckled.

            “I’ve been thinking lately, that there’s isn’t a right choice.”

 

From behind Mulan came the sound of a throat being cleared in an effort to interrupt, which made sense when she saw who it was. Regina smiled at them through barely veiled malicious intent. Mulan’s panic manifested as stoicism, knowing that any movement could be misconstrued. Hyper aware of her actions she did her best to stay still as not to give herself away, but as Regina’s heels clicked a few feet closer she got the feeling that it wouldn’t help at all.

“Hello, sorry to interrupt, the receptionist told me you were working which appears to have been incorrect,” She cast a look at Aurora and Mulan recognized what was happening, it was the same tactic she’d used to imply Regina’s illicit relationship, some how she’d been caught.

“Excuse me, who are you?”

Aurora had a tendency of coming off a little insolent.

Before Mulan could excuse her Regina introduced herself, “Regina Mills, attorney. It’s nice to meet you Miss. Rosenfeld. Or is it Mrs. Samson?”

Regina knew it wasn’t but that wasn’t the point.

“No, not yet.”

            “Regardless, congratulations.”

Aurora didn’t seem to know how she was meant to be taking Regina’s amity but knew better than to accept it whole-heartedly.

“Thank you, did you need something?”

“Aurora, go wait in the lobby.”

            Best to get her out of the crossfire.

“Uh, I-“

            “Please.”

            Aurora looked between the two of them and nodded, knowing when a battle was about to be fought; she left without any sort of polite goodbye. Mulan’s vulnerability vanished with her leaving, “I don’t have to tell you that this is highly inappropriate.”

            Regina looked back at the girl walking away and raised an eyebrow, “Well, you would know.”

            “What do you want?”

            “Perhaps somewhere more private?”

“I’ll be fine here.”

Regina’s smile looked like a threat, “Of couse you are. I just came by to ask you about my clients behavior while in holding.”

            “Why?”

“I’m a criminal defense lawyer Miss. Hua, I know better than to always believe the story my clients give me. I wanted your opinion on her behavior.”

Mulan’s eyes narrowed.

            “You don’t believe she’s innocent?”

“I just prefer to gather my own information.”

            For a few seconds Mulan was silent, evaluating Regina’s motives and finding them insufficient.

            “Don’t waste my time. What do you really want?”

Her smirk redoubled at the boldness of her opposition.

“What’s your partner involved in?”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? So you haven’t been handling almost all the paperwork for the case against my client?” Mulan’s expression confirmed her hunch.

            “If she’s being framed it’d be pretty hard not to notice, a smart girl like you.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

            The taunting grin dropped and her tone flattened, “Fine, I have proof that you’re screwing his fiancé, tell me what he’s got his hands in and you’re more than welcome to continue your home-wrecking.”

            At the mention of her affair Mulan was suddenly more concerned with privacy but was left with no grounds for retreat.

            “I could have you arrested for blackmail and intimidating a police officer.”

“You think that your partner’s lieutenant daddy will be able to protect him when internal affairs hear about the charges of corruption levied against the pair of you? Because I don’t think even you could do paperwork well enough to hide everything.”

            It wasn’t a bluff but Mulan wasn’t one to relent without every effort at protection, it was only when Regina took another look towards Aurora’s path of exit that her determination faltered.

“I’d hate to see what effect that would have on the wedding.”

Her false concern was a form of condescension.

There was more on the line here than her friendships, even if they were forfeit the spread of this information would ruin their careers and Aurora was an heiress, bordering celebrity status and a reputation sure to explode the second she was involved in scandal.

“Phillip doesn’t know that I know.”

There hadn’t been anything about it in the paperwork. For the most part, someone else had handled things; Mulan didn’t know whom, but there had been enough breadcrumbs left over for her to understand that things were not entirely legitimate. Phillip was more often than not willing to play devil’s advocate when doubt was cast on the guilt of a criminal but he’d taken the case on specifically and carried out it’s requirements with a grim kind of duty. Once they’d had her booked he’d had no qualms with sacrificing as much involvement as possible. The night he’d brought her in he’d hung around just long enough to watch her get printed before retreating to his desk for a series of phone calls, eaves-dropping had indicated that they were updates on the case. It wasn’t enough to prove him complicit but enough to bait her suspicion. The case had been transferred to him specifically but the records made no mention of who approved it and in the original case files there were times, names of could-be-witnesses pulled on canvas, evidence that in no way corroborated the facts of the case the persecution was now seeking. Somewhere between the original and the copy they’d received facts had gone missing. It could have been a miscommunication, and if they’d been caught she had no doubt that was what they’d claim it to be, but she knew better. It had occurred to her to approach him about it, even to turn him in but he’d worked hard to get where he was. She’d been there through the difficulties, the time he’d taken to get sober and she had faith that whatever reasons he had for what he was doing there was a valid explanation. So she’d kept her mouth shut and pretended she didn’t see, it was the least she could do for her friend and she had intended to get the truth from him, it was the business with Aurora that had distracted her.

“And what is it you know?”

“I don’t know why, I just know he’s involved in something. Phillip is not a bad man; I think he has a good reason for what he’s doing.”

Regina looked like she’d just gotten a confession.

“Like what? To protect you? To protect your girlfriend?” For a second she stopped smirking, “Is that why you kept your mouth shut? I would have thought someone like you would have more honor.”

            “Don’t you _dare_ talk to me about honor. Phillip is honorable, you aren’t.”

“It’s _honorable_ to put an innocent woman in prison?”

            “Emma Swan is a criminal and a con-artist, I’ve seen her records and she should already _be_ in prison.” Her volume had risen higher than she had intended and she seemed to be surprised at her own revelation, regaining herself she lowered her voice again. “I might not know what Phillip’s involved in but I know it must be important for him to do what he’s doing.”

            “I’m glad you think so,” the taunting had evaporated into something more resolute, “meanwhile my client stands to lose everything.”

“You mean you stand to lose your client.”

            A sense of bloodlust seemed to possess Regina, “You’re protecting a man whose fiancé you are sleeping with, how honorable is that?”

She had sharpened her tone purposefully but nobody was close enough to hear it.

            “Don’t talk about Aurora and I, you know nothing about it.”

“And you know nothing about my relationship with Emma.”

 

“I know con-artists trick people to get what they need, and right now, she needs a lawyer.”

 

For a second Mulan thought that Regina was going to punch her in the face. She was more than capable of defending herself, she’d practiced martial arts since her childhood and a tour in the military had taught her an ample number of ways to counter an attacker’s aggression but getting into an altercation with a lawyer in the precinct was not exactly the pinnacle of professionalism. The moment passed, however, and Regina returned to her bogus cordiality, still, her tone was flat and impatient.

 

“Thank you for your time detective.”

Regina made a spectacle of turning to leave.

            “And see if I can’t get an invitation to your partner’s wedding, I’m sure your friend will look wonderful in white.”

            “Wait.”

Regina stopped on a dime.

            “You’re not going to…”

It hurt her pride to ask.

            “Tell anyone? As of now, no, you told me what you knew. That was all I asked for, have a nice dinner.”

            Before the door was closed behind her, Mulan had picked up her phone.

 

 

* * *

 

The entrance hallway to the school was empty. It had been month’s since he’d been to one but the stress of the wedding had started to get to him and Aurora being out of the house had meant he was doing without a main component of his support structure. It wasn’t enough for him to bother Aurora about staying home, she’d never spent much time with her mother growing up and it meant a lot that she’d made the time now. If the trouble he had to go through for that was a supplementary AA meeting then so be it.

            The meeting hadn’t ended yet, but his phone had been vibrating in his pocket for a solid three minutes and in his line of work emergencies had serious consequences; seeing that it was Mulan did little to assuage his worry.

            “Hello? Mulan?”

“Phillip, where are you?”

            “I went to an afternoon meeting.”

There was no need to explain what kind; it was Mulan who had helped drag him out of his drunken stupor years ago.

            “Where?”

“Mulan, what’s wrong?”

            “Swan’s lawyer was just here.”

“She what-?“

            “Is she innocent?”

“What?”

            “I don’t need you to explain anything to me, I just need to know.”

“Did...did she say something to you? Where is this coming from?”

            “Just tell me the truth.”

“Are you at the police station? I’m on my way.”

            “Phillip…”

“Just, meet me at the precinct in an hour?”

 

 

            Emma kept her eyes on the side-mirror; it was hard to keep her focus. After arguing that a yellow Volkswagen was too conspicuous for surveillance Regina had begrudgingly granted her the keys to her Mercedes. She didn’t know what was better, how the Benz growled or the thought that somewhere Regina in her black skirt and nice jacket was driving her dented, sunshine yellow bug.

            Regina had dispatched her initially to make sure he wouldn’t walk in on the conversation she had planned to have with Mulan but Emma’s intention were separate. She may not approve of getting involved in blackmailing people for their personal problems but she was still being framed and she had every desire to find out who was behind it. It was thief 101, nothing made a person run for their valuables like the smell of smoke and from Phillip’s pace as he left the high school Emma could tell he’d already spoken with Mulan. Emma sunk down into the driver’s seat, trying not to be seen. It would only be so long before he contacted whoever was handling his involvement, whether it was by phone or in person Emma intended to know about it.

            The attendees had parked their cars in the first few spaces close to the front door, middle of the day meetings never pulled the same crowd as the evening ones but there were enough vehicles that parking near the curb in the lane meant for unloading the buses wasn’t suspicious. Phillip paused there long enough to make another phone call, he stood balanced on the curb waiting for whoever it was to pick up but the attempt was apparently unsuccessful. Stepping into the bus lane Emma saw what he did not, behind him one of the parked cars flickered to life. The second she saw it she knew she would do good to remember as much as she could. It was beat up but someone had sprung for tinting, so much so that only the outline of the driver was apparent and she could tell little from it. The front license plate was missing.

            In her head she was fast enough to open the door and warn him, maybe even get part of the way there before the car took out his legs and the snap broke the windshield. The image of the rescue was so clear in her head that its occurring counterpart seemed impossible and the two seconds it took the car to pass by her own were wasted in shock. Even as she opened the door, part of her was still before it happened, still watching him walk across the road. He was deflected off the windshield and to the opposite side of the curb, Emma couldn’t see his face but even from a distance she could tell the angle of his visible arm wasn’t natural.

            “Phillip!”

 

She crossed the pavement at a dead sprint and dropped so hard her knees hurt. He was face down and she was too wary to turn him over, even as he was she could see where blood had soaked the collar of his work-shirt. High-risk criminal occupation had led to a fair amount of first-aid know how and if his neck was broken then moving him might do more damage. Emma slipped her hand past his shoulder, trying to jostle him as little as possible, reaching down to his chest she felt for a heartbeat. Ribs were broken but beneath them was the faint echo of preserved life.

            “Phillip?”

No response.

            “Dammit Phillip, come on.”

            She didn’t realize how much her hands were shaking until she reached for her cell-phone, she could barely get it out of the pocket of her leather jacket and when she tried to slide the unlock bar something smeared across the screen. The hand she’d used to feel his chest was wet with blood; she used the other to dial 911.

 

“You should leave.”

“I thought we could get lunch?”

Aurora had waited in the lobby, not planning on getting much further away from Mulan than her place leaning beside the doorway lest she try and escape out one of the windows.

            “Something came up.”

“Something always comes up.”

            “That’s what happens when you have to work for a living.”

Aurora’s eyes narrowed at Mulan’s intent to sting.

            “You didn’t mean that.”

Aurora stood in her way.

            “Say you didn’t mean it.”

Mulan looked at her for a few seconds.

“I didn’t mean it, but I do think you should leave. If our options are this or staying away from each other then I think it’s best that we stay away from each other. At least until after the wedding.”

            “So what? Something can come up then? We need to-“

Aurora’s phone went off in her purse; she reached under her arm to retrieve it. Mulan made to move but Aurora put a hand up to halt her.

            “You stay still, I’m not done talking. Hello?...Yes, this is she.”

Mulan was left to watch her, there wasn’t much conversation but the impression she got was that there didn’t need to be. It only took seconds for Aurora’s face to twist in panic, her jaw dropped open and her eyes flooded. A pain bloomed in Mulan’s chest, deep and dreadful as she read Aurora’s expression. Whoever had delivered the news didn’t even get a goodbye, the arm holding the phone went limp and Aurora collapsed. Mulan seized her under the shoulders before she hit the ground and held her hard against her chest.

            “Aurora, Aurora, shhh, what happened?”

She wasn’t much good at comfort but she wanted to be, keeping her standing meant she couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“What do you want me to do? Tell me what we need to do?”

Over her own panic she heard her cell-phone vibrating in her pocket and knew it wasn’t a coincidence, whatever had happened it was Phillip. The low rumble of Mulan’s phone seemed to double Aurora’s grief but she wasn’t sobbing, she was barely making any noise at all. Holding up Aurora and answering her phone at the same time was a task in itself but as she reached for it Aurora stopped her.

“No, no, no, don’t answer that. Don’t answer it.”

“I won’t. I won’t answer but you have to tell me-“

            Aurora’s eyes widened, a bit of her strength returned to her legs. Each word struggled into being through breathlessness but the repetition seemed to make her words more solid.

“We have to go to the hospital. Phillip. Phillip is in the hospital.”

 

* * *

 

The first thing Regina saw was Emma with blood on her hands. There was some on her tank top too and on the thighs of her pants where she had tried to wipe it off, probably without thinking. She knew that the blood wasn’t Emma’s but the concept frightened her enough to quicken her pace. There was a desire to touch, to ensure that she was solid and there and real but she withheld it.

            “You’re okay?”

“Fine. A little shook up.”

            Regina thought it might be more than a little, Emma looked liked a woman who’d just gone six rounds with her own adrenaline and lost every one of them. Philip was in surgery but the swelling he’d suffered from the head injury wasn’t causing any undue optimism. Sometime between the asphalt and the ambulance he’d stopped breathing but as far as she knew they’d managed to keep him alive. Despite the differences it reminded her of finding Graham, she hadn’t been able to do anything then either.

 

            “I just couldn’t do anything.”

“What?”

            “I couldn’t help him.”

“Emma, he was hit by a car, there was nothing _to_ do.”

            “I saw, I should have been able to do something. To save him.”

“How? Throwing yourself in front of a moving car and hoping you popped the tires?”

            “I didn’t even open the door.”

Regina took a second before speaking.

 

“It’s not your responsibility to save people.”

 

            Emma scoffed and looked towards the doors that led to the hospitals interior then down at herself, inadvertently catching sight of the blood on her clothes.

 

            “It was.”

 

Regina had hoped to get out of the hospital before finding any familiar faces but Mulan had been faster than she’d expected. No doubt she’d run the lights on her police car the whole way over.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Emma stumbled over the explanation, she didn’t know how to say it and so Regina said it for her, “Emma was the one who called the ambulance.”

Before Regina could think to put herself in the way Mulan had gotten into Emma’s personal space, “What did you do?”

“Oh please.”

Regina lowered an arm between them, “She was keeping an eye on him while I was in the precinct. Your partner was a hit and run. If Emma hadn’t been there he would be dead.”

There was no slackening of tension, no sudden forgiveness but she did take a step back to look down at Emma’s clothes. It looked like her heart skipped but she operated over it.

“Do you have a jacket?”

“Why?”

            “Aurora’s about to walk through that door and the last thing she needs to see is you covered in her fiancé’s blood.”

            Beneath her even tone Mulan was beginning to lose her composure; any more pressure and Regina would be mopping up tears and, not something she had time for.

            “I left it in-“

“Here.”

Regina shuffled her briefcase between hands so she could sidle out of her trench coat. Emma had wriggled into it just in time, the thing looked ridiculous on her but as Aurora got through the doorway it served its purpose. Regina was surprised she was even on her feet, her face looked swollen but whether it was from crying or just wanting badly to she couldn’t tell. As the dialog began to replay itself Regina rolled her eyes.

            “What are you doing here?”

The question was directed at Regina, a face that, unlike Emma’s, Aurora knew.

            “I’m here with my client.”

Aurora didn’t look like she had the capacity to meet anybody new; Mulan took over the explanations.

            “She called the ambulance.”

“What do you mean? Who are you?”

            Emma hadn’t yet mustered the reflexes to respond for herself.

“Her name’s Emma Swan.”

Aurora was having a difficult time with the influx of information.

“You mean the woman Phil-…,” Her voice broke midway through his name, “The woman from the case? What was she doing with him?” Her focus switched to Emma, “What were you doing with him?”

            “Nothing, I was-“

“Did you have something to do with him being…?”

Whatever sense had animated her cracked as it was stressed; tears fringed her eyes though her expression remained unchanged. Emma recognized her condition, the attempt to pause things long enough to regain herself and the shock that everything continued despite her. It was her empathy that paralyzed her when Aurora made a grab. It was a half-hearted attack at best and she could only administer a rough pull at the front of Regina’s coat, “Why did you hurt him?”

Emma didn’t fight back.

“Aurora, stop it.”

Mulan pulled her away.

Her aggression hadn’t been enough to hurt but the hastily arranged trench coat had come undone revealing the bloody clothes beneath. Aurora took one glance and looked like she was going to throw up. Mulan got between her and the bloody clothes, trying to calm her down but not before Regina finally came up with something to say.

“Get control of your girlfriend.”

The pair’s concerns had transcended whether or not strangers knew about their personal affairs but to Regina’s surprise Emma turned on her, “Really?”

 

Mulan had tucked Aurora against her chest, Emma took a step towards them leaving Regina just behind her, taken aback by dissent.

 

“Aurora,” the girl peeked up from Mulan’s shoulder, “I’m sorry, but I promise you I’m going to figure out who tried to kill him.”


	6. Chapter 6

            Phillip had been moved to ICU for monitoring following what Regina could only infer was an intense surgery. Emma had insisted on staying long past answering police questions despite neither Mulan nor Aurora showing any interest in speaking with her. She’d hoped his coming out of surgery would be enough for Emma to loosen the reigns on her self-guilt but no such luck and he was beginning to fear Emma intended to hang around until Phillip woke up. If he woke up at all.

            Regina had no love for hospitals, she’d spent enough time in them over the past two years to last her a lifetime. She was not squeamish about suffering but being kept in the dark frustrated her, legions of doctors using sterilized terminology for the sake of pacification meant diminished control and that unsettled her. She’d accompanied Emma into the ICU as per her request and hadn’t needed more than a minute of watching Aurora crying on Phillip’s chest to excuse herself back to the waiting room. From there it’d been a solid ten minutes in a room of anxious strangers waiting for Emma to show back up. Her mounting frustration nearly matched her expression to theirs and when Emma came through the door she took no time in standing up.

            “He had a closed head injury, they don’t know if he’s going to wake up.”

Regina relaxed her shoulders at the appearance of an escape route.

“Well it sounds like there’s nothing else you can do.”

Before she’d even finished the sentence she knew Emma had no intention to leave.

            “I think I’m going to stick around?”

“Why?”

            Emma looked surprised that she needed to ask, as if her reasons were readily apparent to those without bleeding hearts.

            “Just to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Right, with all of your neurosurgical experience.”

            “I promised Aurora-“

“Which was stupid, promising the poor girl you’ll find out who did it. You can’t do that.”           

            “I can and I did. Do you think all of this is a coincidence?”

One of the police officers had given Emma a T-shirt and the irony of her wearing anything with a precinct badge on the chest was not lost on either of them.

“Actually no, I know it isn’t. A head detective on your case gets _hit by a car_ and you’re the only witness.”

The implications occurred to her; despite all efforts Emma would be forever incapable of thinking like a lawyer. The secret was to expect the worst in people, something that came naturally to Regina.

“High schools have exterior cameras, just get them to pull the footage.”

“So what? We’re left with a charge of stalking? Attempting to intimidate an officer?”

            Too much had occurred for Emma to maintain her patience and she didn’t stay put long enough for Regina to continue haranguing her.

            “Where are you going?”

“To talk to Mulan.”

            “You’ve satisfied your ridiculous savior complex, I think we should leave.”

Emma’s posture drooped, tired of having to defend what she perceived as obvious.

            “Fine, go.”

Regina scoffed, “And leave you alone with the police officers working your case?”

            Now Emma looked angry, “It’s pretty hard to play good cop/bad cop when your partner is in a coma.”

            “That doesn’t matter, as far as these people are concerned you’re a murderer-“That doesn’t mean I’m going to start acting like one! This isn’t about me Regina. Phillip might not wake up and I don’t need to be lawyer-ed right now. I need…a human being with functioning emotions.”

            The temperature of the space between the two of them seemed to drop by whole degrees and Regina nodded.

            “And seeing as I don’t have those, I’ll leave you be. See you at trial Miss. Swan, you know how to reach me.”

Words of apology rose to the edge of form but Emma swallowed them and settled for looking inarticulate. Regina hit the exit like a category five leaving her to puff up her cheeks and exhale her exasperation.

“I’m sorry.”

Emma jumped at the voice behind her saying what she should have. Mulan stood there with her hands in her pockets.

“Jeeze you scared the crap out of me,” any additional apologies were withheld; one was all she was getting, “There’s nothing to apologize for, she’ll cool down.” Hearing herself say it made her realize how ridiculous she sounded and she added flatly, “Maybe. Hopefully. Crap.”

Emma slumped down into one of the waiting room chairs and the fabric of her jacket bunched up around her bringing on the discovery that she was still wearing Regina’s trench coat.

            “I wouldn’t hold my breath but that isn’t what I’m apologizing for.”

Emma looked up from her shoes.

            “I think I may have misjudged you.”

“What?”

            “I insinuated to Miss. Mills that you were conning her, but I was wrong.”

“Right, because we get along so well.”

            “No, but I recognize what it looks like to protect someone.”

“Lady, I’m not protecting anybody.”

            Having not come to argue Mulan only nodded.

“Phillip always said that most bad people are just people you don’t know well enough yet.”

Emma peeked up through her hair.

            “Yeah, and what do you say?”

“Even good people are capable of bad things, and you can’t judge them selectively.”

            Emma nodded; Mulan had a certain thirst to be forgiven even if it was by someone who had no bearing or involvement in the situation. She wanted to know that she and Aurora were not doomed to be judged on their bad things but the only one who could forgive her was in the other room without any guarantee of waking up.

            “How’s Aurora?”

“How do you think?”

            Her interest was sincere but now she felt insensitive. The unasked question was to Mulan’s own well being but she didn’t expect she’d get an answer even if she’d asked.

            “I meant what I said, I’ll find out who did this.”

            Mulan adjusted her hands in her pockets.

“Listen, I may not like it but your lawyer’s right. If the D.A wants to bury you they won’t be picky about the dirt. They’ll try to pin this on you and if you keep running around you’ll just be giving them more ammunition. When we got your case file changes had been made, times and witness names, reconcile with Mills, use the discrepancies to beat the charges and then leave town.”

“I can’t.”

“Your rap sheet says otherwise.”

Emma laced her fingers through her hair over her temples, balancing her elbows on her knees.

“Whoever’s doing this killed Graham, they hurt Phillip. If I was in the wind who do you think they’d take it out on?”

 

“Regina.”

 

“Bingo.”

 

Using Regina’s jackets seemed a trespass so instead she hitched her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans and her fingers brushed a slip of paper.

“Oh. Could you give this to him? Or, I mean, you know.”

Emma offered the tiny scrap of paper and Mulan took it before asking.

“What is it?”

            “Fortune cookie fortune. It’s weird I know, it’s a…kind of an I.O.U”

“Sure, I’ll take care of it.”

            “Thanks.”

* * *

 

 

“Here.”

            Having things shoved into her field of vision didn’t tend to ply Regina towards pleasant conversation, she peered up the packet of papers to the arm holding them and finally to Belle who seemed to have learned to expect less than a gracious welcome.

            “What is this?”

As Regina didn’t seem to be planning to take it from her Belle set it down on the desk.

“A request for transfer, Emma’s murdered detective was trying to be moved to vice.”

“And what makes you think I care?”

It had been three days since she’d seen Emma and so far there had been no phone calls or sudden home visits. To be honest she had expected some sort of half-baked apology but now she suspected there were intentions to carry the grudge to its allowance. It didn’t seem the best way to prepare a murder defense but she had no want of being around Emma whilst she was playing hero in much the same way Regina’s disregard for sensitivities turned Emma against her. There were parts of one another that the specific nature of their relationship had left them ill-equipped to deal with.

“In the request he cited differences with his partner, they didn’t get along. In the version of the events you received from Mr. Lake-“ Belle flipped through the packet upside down until finding the page she was citing, “they based motive on him confiding in his partner about his relationship with Emma.”

Belle had finally earned Regina’s attention; she flipped between the two pages to confirm the discrepancy.

“Congratulations Ms. French, you’re not terrible at your job.”

“I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment.”

            It was probably the closest she was going to come to one.

“You’re also more ruthless than I’d given you credit for.”

            “Excuse me?”

 

Returning to work without the constant distraction of Emma’s case had caused side effects, one of them being her return to her old cases, which hadn’t sat well with Belle. After two days without a reaction Regina had nearly expected the girl to lay down and take it but this was much more promising. Standing up, Regina retrieved her jacket from the back of her seat; she’d dug it out of the closet after realizing she’d left her newer one with Emma.

“Check with Ruby for my open cases, notes are in the top drawer, left filing cabinet. Touch anything else and my goodwill disappears.”

 

Belle nodded and kept her mouth shut until Regina was out the door, taking the packet of paper with her. She didn’t even get around to the other side of the desk before Ruby came through the door.

 

“Saw Regina leave, did it work?”

“Thanks to you.”

 

Ruby smiled from the doorway; even with Regina gone she didn’t really want to hang out inside of her office, it seemed like the kind of place that might be booby-trapped. No such hesitation affected Belle; she had already dug into one of the filing cabinets, flipping through papers.

“Right, my stunning secretary skills.”

Belle held a breath in her chest before speaking, “I’m not kidding, have you ever thought about doing more here than answering phones?”

            “I don’t exactly think I’m the criminal lawyer type.”

“My father never thought I was, Belle and her books helping hardened criminals, I just think everybody needs someone to see the good in them.”

            For the pleasantness of what had become their friendship Ruby thought that they knew very little about one another. They’d sort of skipped over the having to know things part, as the getting along had come so naturally.

            “I took this job to help out my Granny’s bed and breakfast, I have no plans to save the world.”

 

“Sometimes its not the world, sometimes it’s just one person.”

            “Is that how it is for you?”

Not wanting to give herself away Belle kept her smile directed at the paperwork, “I’m not much for a savior, but I might know one or two.”

 

* * *

 

 

Regina had never been to Pittsfield before but it didn’t sound like a pleasant errand. To be honest she wasn’t partial to any part of Massachusetts, she was immune to Boston’s infectious pride as the city itself had always been a mark of retreat. It had allowed her comfort and recuperation from her time in New York but had never adopted a sense of home and it affected her more than she’d like to admit.

Over the phone the Pittsfield police had been unhelpful, they weren’t willing to say more than ‘we’ve provided the Boston District Attorney’s office with the complete report.’ No doubt the precinct was bitter at having had a murder case involving one of their detectives high jacked to Boston, overriding jurisdiction told her one thing, any failure in obtaining the murder conviction would be followed by indictments on Emma’s white collar crimes. The feds were probably swooping low at the smell of blood. Their absolute enthusiasm to have Emma in prison only made her more zealous in her defense. The Pittsfield Police were about to be the first victim of that conviction but before she could carry out her intended onslaught the man at the front desk looked up boredly and said, “Let me guess, Agent Jefferson?”

Regina’s speech center did a hard reset at having her intentions preempted but her confused look was apparently enough to let the secretary know he was right.

“He left early today, said he was sick though I don’t know how much rest he’s going to get if I keep telling lawyers where he lives.” He was already clacking away on the keyboard to pull up an address.

“Lawyers?”

“I’ve worked here long enough to know what a lawyer looks like and I’m sorry to break if to you but you are one, what’s your name and firm so I can release his information?”

            The helpfulness in person far exceeded the resistance she’d met on the phone, “Regina Mills, Gold and Associates.”

            The man paused and looked from his computer screen to her, he was a shorter stockier man, not normally the type she might have expected as a secretary but then again she supposed not everybody’s boss hired exclusively good-looking brunettes for secondary positions.

            “I hope you’re joking.”

“I don’t joke.”

            He looked for a moment considering and then nodded, “You don’t have to convince me but I wish you were.”

            Looking a touch more glum than he had for the preceding part of their exchange he flipped the logbook around to face her and placed a slightly chubby finger at the last filled line. On it sat her name in someone else’s handwriting, handwriting she recognized.

            “Know any blondes who might think they’re you?”

“Only one that wishes she was.”

 

            Jefferson’s house was too big for a police officer, whether his wife was some sort of high-powered executive or he’d inherited money it far surpassed the salary of a detective in Pittsfield. The topiary in front was senseless in design and made finding a path to the door an extended task of following a very narrow succession of cobblestones. Emma’s yellow bug, with it’s dented door had been parked slightly down the street no doubt to hide which house it was she’d gone into. It wasn't hard to guess, with houses this big you could only fit three a block and each just as luxurious as the last. Regina hadn’t been so paranoid in her parking choices.

            For the size of the house the door seemed small and the sound of the doorbell could be heard echoing through the foyer from her place on the stoop. No answer, that worried her. She tried again and as the booming sound of the bell faded she heard voices and someone moving.

            “Hello? Mr. Jefferson? I needed to speak with-“

She had gotten close enough to the door that it’s opening surprised her but not so much as the person on the other side of it. Emma stood in the entrance way with her eyes wide and worried, she seemed disheveled in a way other's might not have detected. She was wearing what Regina recognized as one of her own pairs of pants but the ensemble wasn’t completed as she only had on only a tank top besides.

            “I would try to explain to you exactly how much of an idiot you are but based on your actions recently I’m pretty sure I don’t have a primitive enough vocabulary for you to understand me.”

            Emma didn’t respond, the arm that held the door open was stiff and her eyes darted for a moment between it and Regina. The moment of silence allowed her to observe a slight redness on the side of Emma’s face, her anger took an immediate back seat to concern.

            “Are you okay?”

“Leave.”

            “What?”

Emma made to slam the door closed but a hand wrapped around the outside edge and stopped it dead, opening it again revealed a man with a gun.

            “Now now Emma, don’t be rude, invite her inside.”

Emma had closed her eyes for a second, frustrated with her inability to get Regina to safety. The man behind her, who Regina could only infer was Detective Jefferson, was standing too close. Regina had no fear of men with guns; she’d had more than one death threat delivered to her door in a blank envelope. It was an occupational hazard but giving them the satisfaction of her fear was not in her nature.

            This time the weapon wasn’t aimed at her, she was not the one being held responsible for her lack of fear and so she scowled and walked through the door.

 

The foyer was about as nonsensical as the front yard but Jefferson hardly seemed to be frothing at the mouth, in fact after the business of getting the door closed was taken care of he puffed up his chest for a moment and then emptied it with a kind of pleasant, “Hi.”

Regina responded with the caution of a woman dealing with a suspected lunatic, “Hello.”

“I’m sorry, I recognized Ms. Swan but you are?”

            “She’s nobody.”

“I’m Emma’s lawyer, Regina Mills.”

            She did her best to keep her voice professional but Jefferson laughed as if he could hear the waiver in it, “A lawyer? Of all the people you could have gotten to save you, a _lawyer_?”

            “I didn’t call anyone to save me.”

 

Jefferson’s position behind Emma had her and Regina facing one another and unwilling to betray her fear Regina kept her expression blank even as Jefferson’s uneven tempo and increase in volume began to convince her that he was more unbalanced than she’d anticipated.

“Well then, what a happy coincidence. Want anything to drink Ms. Mills? Since you just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

“All I want is to know why you’ve got a gun to my clients back.”

Jefferson screwed up his mouth at being questioned, “I’m just defending myself, Emma here broke into my house.”

            Searching Emma’s expression revealed that the detective wasn’t lying; it must have been why she’d parked her car so far away.

            “And after what happened to my poor partner you could see why I might feel,” Jefferson paused and nosed the pistol with a bit more pressure into Emma’s back, Regina saw her grimace, “threatened.”

 

            Emma had been there for an hour, forty-five minutes of which she had spent at gunpoint and the threat of being killed had almost become tedious. The man was unbalanced that was for sure, but he was not vicious. His act of capturing her in his home had been carried out with almost a grim compulsion, whatever motivated him she knew at least that he was not a man fighting for a cause- he was a man fighting for himself or, perhaps, his family. Climbing in one of the upstairs windows earlier had put her in the bedroom of a young girl with a bed covered in stuffed animals. All of her questions about Graham had been met with agitated aggression but he’d made no phone calls nor informed any employer of his predicament. They might have been able to go on long enough for her to actually get some information out of him had Regina not knocked on the door. Now all she could feel was the blood crashing through her ears and where the gun connected with her spine, she willed it to stay there.

            “And I’m sure Miss. Swan will be more than happy to apologize for her trespassing.”

            “I don’t want an apology!” His sudden bark caused both of them to flinch, his outburst was followed by a grin, “What I want, is an explanation.”

            Before Regina could negotiate Emma reclaimed the reigns of the situation, “I broke into your house because you’re framing me for Graham’s murder.”

            In a second Jefferson jerked Emma back against him, he wrapped his arm around her to cradle her neck in his palm and set his chin down on her shoulder, the gun stayed near his nose, now pressed against the side of her head. She could feel his breath in her hair and as soon as he’d moved Regina had jerked forward as if to stop them. Jefferson’s held his mouth open in a mocking ‘o.’

            “Oh ho ho, her lawyer, huh?”

Her heart rate had spiked and she tried a few breaths to keep it down, with Jefferson so close to her throat she thought he might be able to feel it. The hand that now rested on her collarbone felt warm, too warm for someone who was threatening her life. This looked a lot like danger but she’d been there before and this didn’t feel the same, Regina however, couldn’t seem to tell the difference and Emma could see by the way she was looking that she was going to continue to push until something happened. The thought made her want to throw up, if she wasn’t careful Regina was going to get shot. Some part of her imagined it, like seeing the future the way the gun would go off and right where the bullet would hit her. She was making plans, what she could do if it hit her in the chest, in the shoulder, in the head. She imagined it so vividly she nearly thought it’d already happened, like Phillip and the car. Part of her was already in the world where Regina was hurt; the rest was listening to Regina threatening a man with a gun. This was the thing she’d been trying so hard to avoid.

            “I’m going to have to insist that you release my client.”

“Oh, really, or you’ll what?”

            Regina put her hand on the doorknob, “I’m going to leave and come back with your coworkers.”

            Jefferson made a noise like the end of a chuckle and extended his arm, pointing the pistol at Regina. Emma looked at it, more of her moved to that other world and in terror the remainder reacted. She bit down on the hand near her throat catching the soft spread of skin between his forefinger and thumb in her teeth. He shouted and recoiled enough for Emma to gain space to move, she grabbed his wrist, trapping his upper arm with hers and pressed him into an arm bar. The gun went off, and she took time to watch the bullet bury itself safely in the ceiling. With an addition pull he yelled and dropped the gun to the hardwood with an anticlimactic thunk. Emma left it there and turned on him unarmed. She calculated in a moment the maximum potential for damage and kneed him hard in the crotch; he stared at her for a moment, almost comically, before collapsing into the fetal position.

 

Regina let out the breath she had been holding and scooped the gun up from floor, “You are an absolute idiot Emma Swan.”

            Still breathing hard Emma turned away from Jefferson not believing what she was hearing, “I’m an idiot? Do you not know what the word leave means?”

            “I’m sorry, maybe you should have said ‘there’s an insane man with a gun’ or better yet, you could not go off half-cocked breaking into a detective’s house after using my name to illegally obtain information. Are you trying to make defending you this difficult or do you just really miss jail?”

            Catching her breath Emma looked from the hole in the ceiling to the gun Regina was now brandishing around as she spoke, this was the world she’d wanted to end up in.

            “Are you okay?”

“I’m…I’m fine.”

            The gun rattled with the shaking of her hands, on the ground Jefferson groaned and Emma, in the wonderful relief of the moment took a step into Regina’s personal space- close enough to smell her shampoo. Almost immediately she backed away, her anger refreshed,  “No, you don’t get to touch me, you broke into a man’s house, I’m holding a gun. We’re leaving.”

            That wasn’t a part of her plan, she had risked too much breaking in here to leave without anything to show for it.

“He’s framing me.”

“And you’re going to what? Tie him to a chair and torture him until he admits it?”

            “I just need proof.”

“You need mental help.”

           

            “Please just leave.”

            From the ground Jefferson sounded winded.

“Oh, what? We’re not welcome now that you’re not holding a gun to her back? That seems a little discourteous.”

            “They took my daughter.”

Emma squatted down beside him, “Who took her?”

            His face was red from the pain he was beginning to digest.

“I didn’t know they were going to kill Graham, you have to tell the police that.”

            “You can tell them yourself.”

“I can’t, they’re going to hurt Grace, once they hear you came here. I have to tell them not to, it has to be me instead.”

            Emma’s brow furrowed, “Tell me who they are, I can help her.”

He chuckled in much the same way he had when he’d been threatening her, “No you can’t, there’s only one thing that will help her. You have to leave.”

            “I can’t leave without proof.”

For the most part he seemed to have recovered and was choosing to stay on the ground as an offer of goodwill, laying on his back he looked between the pair of them, “You’re not going to get it. Just go to jail, it’s not the worst thing they could do to you.”

As he finished his sentence his eyes ceased their ping ponging and settled on Regina, implying something sinister.

“It’s not the worst thing you could lose.”

            There was nothing he could do; no matter how hard Emma scowled at him he was as powerless as she was.

            “Let’s go.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Where are you going?”

            Emma stomped through the zany front yard without much care for the directed path, leaving Regina to hurry after her nearly stumbling every other step as her heels caught the strangely arranged cobblestones. There was a certain top speed one could reach in a skirt and heels and she was about at it whilst Emma’s long strides showed no hint of letting her catch up.

 

            “I’m leaving, that’s what you wanted to do isn’t it?”

 

Not willing to chase her any further Regina stopped at the curb beside her car as Emma stomped off towards her incognito parking spot.

            “Don’t try and pretend any of this is my fault. I was tracking down a lead like a normal sane person.”

 

            Emma stopped in the middle of the road and then, considering it, retraced her steps back to the side of Regina’s car. The recollection of Phillip in midair still sometimes burst, undue, into her consideration, as did Aurora’s crying. They accompanied one another to a point where examination of the details of the accident brought to mind a distant weeping and she would have to check that there was no one crying in her vicinity just to reassure herself. The past two nights she’d been trying to distinguish the silhouette behind the wheel but she’d worked so hard at it she was afraid she’d begun to make things up. Sometimes it was her driving, sometimes Mulan, sometimes Regina. While that might have seemed like a field day for someone with a psychology degree, for her it was a distraction. The driver had been a male, she was nearly sure of it. Running the car plate numbers revealed it’d been stolen and her own inability to remember it’s driver haunted her, fostered a sleeping anger and Regina’s insults woke it.

None of this was Regina’s fault. The rate at which people were getting hurt was directly related to their proximity to Emma. Regina’s insistent dogging of her case (even without her accompaniment) was almost flattering but this was an anger that couldn’t be reversed or absorbed, it was impossible and alive and demanded a target.

 

            “I didn’t ask you to do that!”

“It’s my job.”

            “Stop it, if it’s your job than you’re working for me and I’m not happy with your service. You’re not doing this as a job. We both know that.”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Exasperated, Emma laughed and turned away, “Come on Regina.”

Regina pursed her lips and crossed her arms, prepared to argue until Emma was satisfied,            “An intern pointed out a discrepancy to me and I followed up on it.”

 

“By driving almost three hours? By nearly getting shot? Those kinds of things don’t happen to lawyers, not normal ones. They shouldn’t be happening to you.”

 

“They wouldn’t happen to me if _you_ didn’t break into peoples houses.”

 

Arguing with her like this was pointless, no matter the logic she used Regina was unlikely to see anything but what she wanted but instead of being discouraged Emma just became angrier.  

            “You’re going to get hurt!”

Walking around the car and up onto the curb she felt the precipice of forethought where concern would become a confession and, not caring, crossed it.

            “You. Are going. To get. Hurt. Maybe not hit by a car, or shot by a crazy person, but you’re going to get hurt.”

 

Regina squinted at her as if she’d become blurry, surprised by the sentiment.

            “That’s what your afraid of?”

 

It was what she was afraid of and had been, as was now made obvious by the stress of her admission, but by the way Regina regarded it she might as well have said she was afraid of the boogieman. She scoffed.

 

“You honestly think I’m some damsel in distress that can’t take care of myself? Please. Do you know what my job is? I help criminals. I know how to handle people who want to hurt me so let me handle it. If there’s one thing you’ve demonstrated with this little adventure it’s that you need me to accomplish anything at all so I suggest you stop moping because we have work to do.”

 

            Emma didn’t respond right away, somewhere in her crusade of separation she’d forgotten something important: When she’d found Graham she had tried to revive him. It was desperate and delusional; she had seen the hole in his chest from across the room. His wound provided sufficient carnage to evoke imaginings of the force it might take to rip a human heart from a ribcage. She didn’t know CPR past what she’d seen on television but tried anyway; finding, to her horror, that there was barely chest enough left to compress. It occurred to her the things she had just lost, the pieces: Who she was when he tried his awkward flirtatious jokes, when they argued over how she made her living, who she’d been when they’d had sex.

            She didn’t want to seem callous in knowing he was one of several. Emma had her places to sleep and never in sleeping endeavored to think past the coming morning. Graham’s death had taken from her a possible future, a slim one like the crack of a door, a troubled one built only on his hopes for her but a future that could have been hers. They might have spent winter nights in his family cabin in Connecticut or gone to Police Balls in nice clothes or maybe, if she’d been who he’d wanted her to be they could have adopted Henry. She might have wiped clean all marks of her past and been what life had denied her.

Those things, now, would never happen. The future was a series of decisions, some you made and some you had made for you. In her Volkswagen, driving away from the first responders she hade made the decision to go to Boston and even if that was the only choice she was allowed to make from that point forward she had chosen Regina.

To deny her help now for some self-important definition of protection was disrespectful, to save her was to dismiss her as nothing more than some sort of repair shop, visited in the most chaotic times of her life. Regina did more than fix; interpreted, understood and though she never forgave she made Emma feel forgiven. She was the one who put back together what Emma couldn’t understand without first taking apart. How silly of her to think a woman like that would just stand back while she ran her self-appointed gambit of salvation.

            As some sort of innate preemptive understanding of this revelation Regina withdrew a step and put up a stern index finger in warning, “I haven’t forgiven you so do not even begin to think about touching me.”

 

* * *

 

They reached a rare consensus in planning. Emma would return to Regina's house until contact could be made with Mr. Lake. The chances of Jefferson recanting his previous statement or signing the new series of events into an affidavit was unlikely, especially seeing as by his own estimation he wasn't going to be in a condition to do so much longer but they had shot a hole in the prosecutions motive and that was worth trying a bluff. Now, a three-hour car-ride after leaving Jefferson alone on his foyer floor Emma regretted not trying harder to help him but the bitterness as being held hostage hadn't inclined her to clear thinking. It wasn't as if he was an innocent man suddenly thrust into a bad situation; there were karmic forces at work but the thought of his daughter's bed covered in stuffed animals asked her to forget karma. Phillip had been involved as well hadn't he? Maybe not as directly in Graham's death but he was framing her the same way Jefferson was. How did you choose whom to forgive? Who to save? Who to avenge?

 

How many bad people had Regina helped? That was very nearly her job description, yet here Emma was in her kitchen and karma seemed none the wiser.

 

Emma opened and shut the refrigerator.

"Don't you have like...pasta or something? I thought every house came with pasta."

"Why do you want pasta?"

"I've had take out for three weeks straight, I'm going to pass out if I eat more Chinese food."

"I live alone, I don't tend to cook."

"So? You don't have guests? Aren't there big political people you have to entertain or something?"

 

"Lasagna."

 

Emma shut one of the cabinets with a loud clap.

"What?"

Seated at the island Regina rolled her eyes, she had tried calling Lake's office three times leaving three increasingly irritated messages with his receptionist but still had received no response.

"It's the only thing I know how to make. Unless you want apple pie."

"Lasagna and apple pie? Really?"

"You're more than welcome to _starve_."

"No, I like lasagna," Emma leant up against the counter as Regina stood to find a suitable baking pan, "I think.”

 

            “You’ve never had lasagna?”

“I might have growing up but once I ditched foster care anything I used to eat there made me sick.”

“Charming.”

Regina focused on gathering her ingredients, she wasn’t much for talking about the past, Emma’s or her own. It bred a kind of intimacy she was too aware of to enjoy. It was easier to negotiate with a gunman than talk about her parents; she started laying down the bottom layer of pasta.

Restless, Emma seemed to want to continue her pacing of the kitchen.

"Do you have anything to drink that isn't apples?"

"There's beer in the outside fridge."

"You don't cook but you have an outside fridge?"

Regina looked up from her work unamused. "It came with the house, like the pasta."

 

Emma tried to mock her sarcasm by making a face that even in context looked ridiculous before heading off to the garage. Regina neglected her preparations for a moment to watch her walking away. She was still wearing the pants she'd 'borrowed' which looked ridiculous on her but had abandoned her boots at the door. The shirt she'd taken for her disguise was now safely returned to Regina's wardrobe and with only her tank top on you could see the muscles in her shoulders. She made a lot of noise when she wasn't trying to be quiet and Regina could hear the bottles clanking around from her searching. Emma didn't move with grace but with demand, it forced Regina to look up when she reentered the kitchen. She'd brought an extra beer bottle and offered it sipping the one she'd already opened.

            Regina wasn’t partial to beer, she kept it in case she decided to bring someone home who didn’t like apple cider whiskey or red wine, but it looked good in Emma’s hand.  The bottle was cold enough to sweat and Emma handed it to her by the neck, there was no reason for their hands to touch but they did. Just two days of not seeing one another and maybe it was the fact that she hadn't been shot earlier that day but the feeling of relief was surfeit. Her coveting of Emma's company worried her; making it a habit only multiplied the dread of its counterpart.

Growing up she'd learned not to develop habits that relied on other people, it was part of the reason she'd never liked receptionists. Relying on someone could make you ineffectual, wanting someone made you weak and caring could kill you. Forgetting the baking dish Regina turned to face her. Emma swallowed her mouthful of beer with a gulp.

"You okay?"

"No thanks to you."

Saying so might have evoked guilt if it hadn't been immediately followed by Regina's reaching out to grab the front of Emma's tank top, which evoked another feeling entirely.

"Whoa."

As was her habit Emma stumbled for a moment at being pulled but steadied with a hand against the counter and the rest of herself against Regina. The glass of Emma's bottle clicked when she set it down on the granite, its companion was against her thigh where their hands both still held it. Emma could feel the cold precipitation seeping through the pants she'd borrowed for her misadventures. Several things to say occurred to her, jokes about if this meant she was forgiven, jokes about being hungry and things that weren't jokes at all but as if to stop anything from being said Regina kissed her. Regina never kissed slowly unless she had plans to make you wait, she kissed you like she owned you, like you belonged to her and no matter where you went afterwards you had to remember that— it was a kiss like a brand. Not in the heat but in the purpose and for Emma, who had never belonged anywhere, it felt good to be kissed like that.

One of them set the other beer bottle down, neither knowing whether it was the other being that they both had their hands on it. Hands free now Emma ran her palms down towards Regina's hips. It was strange to think that they'd never kissed much, make out sessions in the kitchen seemed adolescent when there was a king-sized bed upstairs. When they'd met they'd hurtled into one another with such speed that they'd bypassed most of the intimacy, the naive hopefulness of two people just _liking_ one another. Their sex had been based in a kind of chemical compatibility and it could have been that maybe they'd never liked one another at all. Or maybe they were only now starting.

The kissing stopped slowly but neither asked for space. Instead they stayed inches from one another, foreheads touching as Regina slid her hand down Emma's abdomen and past the waistband of her stolen pants. Their eye contact flickered as Emma tried to maintain her composure. Initiating physical contact had never been one of Regina's habits, generally she would pretend they weren't going to fuck until they were, as if it were absurd until it wasn’t. Sometimes it was stayed absurd.

Still she'd preferred control, anything else was difficult. She had realized early in life that being naked with a person was simple, exposing herself to them wasn't. The rhythm and roles of pornographic sex were easy enough to imitate without putting any part of yourself on the line. Intimacy was something else, wanting to make someone feel good. There was power in pleasure, in the tips of her fingers pressed just at the elastic of Emma's underwear and Emma herself, mouth just slightly open, waiting.

 

It was a power she’d never claimed before.

 

For a moment she kept it and then, with a deliberate slowness continued downward through a patch of hair she knew was blonde. Emma was tense with holy focus, probably more turned on than she'd ever seen her, which was impressive considering they were both more than capable of marathon rounds of fucking. On the counter her hands were balled into fists.

 

Then, in the silence after an intake of breath, Emma's phone rang.

 

The moment broken she groaned at the interruption and Regina smirked, leaving her hand where it was.

"You should answer that."

"I really, really, really, _really_ don't want to."

"It might be important."

 

Any hint of a fun, mocking flirtation was absent; Regina was giving orders. Emma looked at her, then downwards at her condition.

 

"Are you gonna move your hand?"

Regina didn't answer but the smugness of her expression increased exponentially implying that she wouldn't be conceding to any requests for the sake of courtesy. Emma pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID, disheartened as much as she was suddenly concerned.

"It's my kid."

Not wanting to cross a line into the uncomfortably inappropriate she withdrew her hand, still smirking, while Emma answered her phone.

"Hello?"

 

Despite not wanting to have Regina's hand down her pants while speaking with the foster home she didn't move away.

 

"Is he okay?"

Regina watched her face, stuck between her phone call and the countertop and thought for a second about her eyelashes, a darker blonde close up.

 

"No, no, it's fine. It's not a problem. Okay. Bye."

Emma hung up her phone and without warning stole another kiss, singular this time.

 

"I have to go."

It took a second of irritated blinking for what she'd said to register, "No you don't."

 

Finally relenting Emma moved away looking like every inch was struggle.

 

"Kid needs me. I told him once things were less insane I'd check in and the woman who runs the home says he's had a rough couple of days."

"I don't see how that's your concern."

 

So often it seemed they were speaking different languages, what was apparent to Regina never occurred to Emma in the same way.

 

"Because he's my son?"

"No, he's not."

Emma rolled her eyes, knowing the exchange they were about to have.

"I had a few painful hours of contractions and intense labor that would say you're wrong."

 

"And I have a really expensive law degree that says I’m not."

"Really? We're going to have this conversation?"

 

Since the second she realized she was potentially being neglected for the whims of a child Regina's brow had been furrowed.

 

"It's not a conversation because I'm right."

"Look, I-"

"Anyway it doesn't matter, you're fresh off of assaulting a police detective...again. I haven't gotten in contact with Lake and you want to go to a group home for visiting hours with a child you have no legal right to. How did you even find out you were his birth mother?"

"It's a long story."

"Save it."

 

Emma paused as she slid her phone back into her pocket, realizing something, "You really don't want me to leave do you?"

"I would advise against it legally."

 

Emma nodded, "Right. Three seconds ago you had your hand down my pants and now you're giving me legal council. Awesome. What should I do then? Just ignore the whole ‘having a child’ thing? I can’t do that anymore.”

 

Regina hadn’t moved from the counter, she’d only shifted to cross her arms over her chest. This whole thing was unexpected; the point of their initial relationship was that neither was called away by responsibility and adjusting between the woman she slept with and the woman she defended in court was taking her a moment.

As her lawyer there was an obvious answer to the problem.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“You’ll-…What?“

 

            “Some sort of character witness interview, what’s the name of the woman who runs the home?”

 

“Uh,” Emma blinked, confused at what was happening, “Her name’s Mary-Margaret…are you _sure_?”

 

            “Last thing I need is for you to get arrested for breaking and entering outside of a foster home.”

 

            Emma didn’t look convinced.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

            “Just you…and, children. It seems-“

It was rare to see Regina look _actually_ affronted.

 

“What? I like kids.”

Emma nodded, processing, “Okay, well, I didn’t know that and now I do.”

 

“I never said I didn’t like kids.”

“Right, and I have no idea why I would have thought that.”

 

* * *

 

“You must be Miss. Mills.”

The woman who ran the home talked as if she were constantly exhaling, she was round-faced but pretty and Regina felt an immediate aversion to her.

“Miss. Blanchard I presume.”

 

The building was nicer than she’d thought it would be, the intercity homes she’d been to in New York were tragically underfunded despite the compassion of their coordinators. Since moving to Boston she’d had no cases that required her to deal with child services, millionaire entrepreneurs were rarely in danger of having their children taken away.

 

            It was a big refurbished house, painted over more than once and supplemented by more recent additions. Unlike the mass-produced sterile facilities that looked more like barracks the rooms were unique but still brimming with bunk beds on chipped hardwood floors. The effect was cozy but she couldn’t imagine it was the most effective layout to care for a mass amount of children. The foyer had an impressive staircase bending up towards the second floor and there were the distant shouts of children playing in the adjacent rooms.

 

            Ms. Blanchard led her past the staircase towards the back of the sprawling house, “Please, call me Mary-Margaret.”

            “Right. I’m here to see-“

 

“Henry, yes, Emma called and explained. I wanted to thank you, by the way, for helping her out as much as you are. She doesn’t tend to let people take care of her, as much as I might try.”

            Regina smiled without the conviction to make it look convincing.

            “Well, Ms. Swan is a grown woman I’m sure she can take care of herself.”

“Of course, I know Emma is more than capable. I just think everyone needs someone to look out for them, don’t you?”

 

            The main hall took them past a kitchen that had been expanded to the size of a small cafeteria where some of the kids were helping with the dishes from dinner. When Regina didn’t answer in the affirmative Mary-Margaret continued, “I mean it’s like these kids, it’s apparent to use that children need somebody. It’s silly to think that goes away when we become adults. I mean Emma’s a perfect example-“

            “Ms. Blanchard I came here to speak to Henry, not talk about my client.”

Her sentences were clipped and emotionless.

 

“R-right, of course, he’ll be out on the castle. Don’t let him catch you off guard, he’s very smart.”

 

            They arrived at the back door; beyond the screened in porch was more backyard space than should have been available less than an hour outside of the city. Various donated and well-loved toys scattered the yard close to the porch steps and further out were the effects of older children, sports equipment and patches where the grass had been worn down to dirt. To the far right someone had constructed a play-castle out of two by fours. The wood was grayed by weather and didn’t seem entirely safe. Sitting between its two towers she could see a boy reading a book. Having still not confirmed anything, Mary-Margaret didn’t know whether or not to leave and hovered awkwardly before saying, “Okay, well, if you need anything I’ll be…in here.”

 

            Walking across a playfield in high heels was not the most graceful thing she’d ever done and Henry, on his castle, seemed content to watch her nearly trip her way closer. Once she was within a suitable distance she cleared her throat.

 

            “Hello, Henry? My name’s Regina Mills.”

“Yeah, Emma’s lawyer.”

 

            Emma had told her he was eleven and not much else about him, he was a kind of good-looking she expected he would grow into. He was darker-featured than Emma but she could see the parts of his face that were inherited, the parts that had been changed. It shocked her for a moment to realize that he existed at all.

 

            “I’m Henry.”

            Even from the two sentences exchanged she could tell that Mary-Margaret and Emma had been right in their descriptions of him, he talked with the same tone as an adult. 

 

            “I know. It’s nice to meet you Henry.”

The boy closed his giant book and slid his way off of the castle, Regina flinched as he landed, already worried that he might hurt himself. Once he was safe on the ground he looked up at her. Something about that seemed wrong and so she bent over to meet him on his level.

 

            “Emma sent me to make sure you were okay.”

“You mean you had to come instead because she’s still in trouble.”

 

            Regina blanked a response at his assessment.

“It’s okay, you can tell the truth. Ms. Blanchard said she had to go out of town but I know how to use Google.”

            “She wanted to be here she just-“

“Couldn’t. It’s fine, I understand.”

 

            His resignation to accept discouraged her; she had always thought children were supposed to be optimistic.

 

            “Ms. Blanchard told Emma you’ve had a rough couple of days, she thought it might help if I came to check on you. See if there was anything you needed.”

 

            It seemed a paltry offer, no doubt there were an innumerable amount of things an eleven year old in the care of the state needed and few of things comfort she could actually provide.

            “No, I’m okay.”

 

Unsatisfied she continued further, “What are you reading?”

Henry looked down at the book he held against his side, the front was ornately embossed but she couldn’t read the title.

            “Just some fairytales.”

“I never read many fairytales, do you have a favorite?”

 

            The boy squinted at her as if he were seeing more than what she looked like.

“Who doesn’t read fairytales?”

            Regina chuckled at his being frank, few people ever were with her anymore.

 

“Well, apparently Lawyers.”

            “You should read fairytales, they teach you things.”

“I guess I wouldn’t know.”

 

            He considered his next words before speaking.

 

“In a fairytale you don’t need parents, you can be a hero without them but once you are you get them back. The hero finds out they’re even bigger heroes or royalty or something.”

            Not knowing how to respond Regina simply waited for the boy to finish his sentiment, one that seemed too big for him.

“I don’t care that Emma isn’t a hero. I was just sort of hoping she could be my mom.”

 

            There was no virtue in building up the boy’s expectations of an uncertain future, with Emma’s record she’d never be able to do anything as radical as adopt. She wasn’t the type for false hope, that was Emma’s thing, but still she said, “Listen, Henry, I promise I’m going to do everything I can so she can try to be.”


End file.
